S ina bUSY LIFE 

N AUTOBIOGRAPHY 




1 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 





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INCIDENTS 



IN 



A BUSY LIKE. 



AN 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 



BY 



ASA BULLARD, 



/out*— J 



BOSTON AND CHICAGO: 
Congregational Sunoao-Srijoal ano publtsijmtj Soctetg. 






Copyrighted, 1888, 
By Congregational Sunday-School and Publishing Society. 



TBI LIBRARY 

|Or C ONG RESS 

' WASHINGTON 



Electrotyped and Printed by 
Stanley 6f l r sAer, iji Devonshire Street, Boston, Afus m 



TO ALL, 

OF EVERY AGE, WHO HAVE IN ANY WAY 
BEEN INTERESTED IN MY LIFE-WORK FOR THE YOUNG, 

THIS VOLUME 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 



CONTENTS. 



I. My Parentage = . . n 

II. My Early Years 15 

III. Our Neighborhood and Homestead 38 

IV. How we Children were Trained 42 

V. My Religious Experiences 60 

VI. My Last Winter in the Public School .... 72 

VII. My First Experience in Keeping School ... 83 

VIII. Preparatory and College Course 88 

IX. A Year in Augusta, Maine 99 

X. Two Years at Andover Theological Seminary . 106 
XI. Three Years in Sabbath-school Work, in Maine iio 
XII. Connection with the Congregational Sunday- 
school and Publishing Society 128 

XIII. Three Tours Through the West 151 

XIV. Some Excursions 161 

XV. My Visit Abroad 168 

XVI. The Chestnut Story 180 

XVII. Incidents in Home Life . 189 

XVIII. In Memoriam 213 



INTRODUCTION. 



Mr. Bullard has kindly asked me to write a few words which may 
accompany the book which he now sends into the world. An introduc- 
tion seems superfluous. Very few men are better known in the churches 
and homes of New England than the revered author of these personal 
sketches. Far beyond the bounds of the states in which his life has, for 
the most part, been spent, and beyond the shores of our country, his 
name and face and work are familiar. He has had the great advantage 
of coming to us in our childhood when the mind readily gains 
impressions which do not pass away. Into my own boyhood, as I 
recall it, comes the recollection of the tall man with his white hair and 
sunny face, his genial voice and winning manner, with the wise lessons 
which he taught and illustrated in a way which was all his own. He 
had the faculty of saying things so that they stayed where he placed 
them, and not only preserved the memory of the man, but made his 
words a living force in the young life. Now, in the fullness of years, 
he still walks among the churches, and children are listening to a man 
whom their grandfathers and grandmothers knew and admired. 

Mr. Bullard has already written a valuable book upon Sabbath-schools, 
their history and methods ; a book rich in information and suggestion. 
It seems fitting that he should add to that another work which should 
give more of the man himself. Many will be glad to know of his 
childhood, of the things which happened to him when he was a boy, 
of the varied incidents which have had their place in a life which has 
been long and industrious and successful. All this can be found in the 
modest pages of this book. The man thinks aloud, and changes his 
recollections into words. The story is told in his own manner. Every 
one who knows the tones of his voice will hear them as he reads. 
Mr. Bullard always knew how to tell a story, and he has well used his 
gift in his own biography. All this will be manifest to those who turn 
these leaves. 

As I have this humble part in sending the book on its errand of love, 
I am sure that I express the feeling of a great company of men and 
women in thanking the author for all he has done for generations of 
boys and girls and in asking for him many years of the same service. 

ALEXANDER McKENZIE. 

Cambridge, June, 1887. 



PREFACE. 



The fact that the special work of my life has been in behalf of the 
young, and has been continued through a kind providence an excep- 
tional length of time, rather than any thing of marked interest in my 
personal history, it is thought may justify the publication of this narra- 
tive. The incidents here given, it is also believed, will illustrate a 
somewhat busy life. 

When my work commenced there were few persons who were laboring 
especially for the young. There were certainly but few who were hon- 
ored with the title of " the Children's Minister." Then there were but 
few children's periodicals like The Sabbath-School Visitor and The Well- 
Spring. The latter was published every week, and came, as some chil- 
dren used to say, "Just as often as father's paper does." For years 
The Well-Spring had a circulation of over sixty thousand copies a 
week. From two to three hundred copies were taken in several of the 
larger cities of California and other western states. 

Of course all this interest in behalf of the young, then so new, made 
a great impression on the minds of the children and youth of those 
times. Those children and youth are the men and women of the pres- 
ent day ; and the impressions of their early life are now constantly seen, 
and oftentimes in a manner to me very touching. I am frequently met 
at public meetings, and in my visits to the churches on the Sabbath, by 
many a one, even of gray hairs, who, with a beaming countenance and 

in animated tones, says : " When I was quite little I heard you at " : 

or, " I always took The Well-Spri7igy So that my presence, and even 
my name, is associated with the early life of many, and recalls scenes 
of their childhood. 

The following extract from an article published in a Providence 
paper will illustrate this : — 

In looking over the Sunday notices, I read that Rev. Asa Bullard would address 
one of the Sunday-schools in our city on the following day, and I resolved at once 
to see and hear him. For the moment I gave myself up to the recollections which 



IO PREFACE. 

for long years have clustered in my mind around his name. Sweet, tender memo- 
ries, with hallowed influences, brought smiles and tears alternately. More than 
forty years ago, Mr. Bullard went to a little country town in Massachusetts to spend 
the Sabbath, and was entertained at my father's house. The little girl of the family, 
who had just passed her third birthday, sat upon his knee and listened with the 
others to his magnetic words. ... I have never seen him since, but so clear and dis- 
tinct was memory's picture, that I half-fancied I should know him on the morrow ; 
and unlike most of my childhood's heroes, and despite the forty years, I recognized 
him instantly. 

Now may not the following simple narrative of my own early days, 
and especially of the work of my life for the young, also recall, to all 
who may read it, memories of their childhood and youth ? 

In 1876 I published "Fifty Years with the Sabbath-schools," a vol- 
ume of 336 pages. This was not intended, as is stated in the preface 
of that book, to be an autobiography, only so far as related to my con- 
nection with Sabbath-schools. "All that it attempts," it was there 
said, "is to give some brief sketches of the earlier schools ; the modes 
of conducting them ; some of the changes that have taken place, and to 
present such incidents and illustrations as have fallen under my observa- 
tion in regard to the various departments and agencies of the Sabbath- 
school work, as will be likely to aid and quicken all who are in any way 
interested in the right training of the young, or in promoting the more 
earnest study of the Word of God." That volume and this, therefore, 
do not, to any great extent, cover the same ground. 

My most earnest hope is that some of the little incidents, even of 
my earlier days, here given may afford, especially to the young of the 
present time, lessons of both interest and profit. These incidents will 
show them that I was once a boy, just like other boys, only, perhaps, 
in some things a little more so. And then, when I have passed away, 
may it not through this little volume be said of the author as it is of 
Abel, " Being dead he yet speaketh "? 

Under these circumstances may I not hope that my numerous 
Sabbath-school friends, and also a considerate public, will judge kindly 
as to the propriety of publishing this humble volume? 

ASA BULLARD. 

" SUNNYBANK," CAMBRIDGE. 



INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 



CHAPTER I. 



MY PARENTAGE. 



THE following account of my parents is gathered 
mostly from a genealogical sketch of the Bullard 
family, written some years ago for the " History of the 
Town of Sutton," by my nephew, William Sumner Barton, 
Esq., of Worcester. 

My father, Dr. Artemas Bullard, was born in Holliston, 
Mass., December 8, 1768. He was the only one of his 
father's children who received a professional education. 
In August, 1794, with a small stock of medicines costing 
twelve pounds, and under a debt of like amount, he 
commenced the practice of his profession in Northbridge, 
Worcester County, Mass. 

While he was studying his profession at Oxford he 
became acquainted with his first wife, Maria Waters, 
daughter of Ebenezer Waters, Esq., of Sutton. They 
were married in Sutton, February 17, 1796. His wife 
died without issue about two years after their marriage. 

December 6, 1798, he married for his second wife Lucy 
White, daughter of Deacon Jesse White, of Northbridge, 
by whom he had ten children, three daughters and seven 
sons. 

Although during his residence of several years in 



I 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

Northbridge he had established an extensive practice, he 
was induced by the father of his first wife, Ebenezer 
Waters, Esq., to purchase his large and beautiful farm in 
West Sutton. In 1805, accordingly, he removed to 
Sutton, and thereafter his attention was divided between 
his profession and his farm. He was about this time 
appointed, by Governor Strong, surgeon of the then local 
infantry regiment ; and in 18 14 he was elected a fellow of 
the council of the Massachusetts Medical Society. He 
might have gained an eminent position in his profession 
had he given exclusive attention to it. 

As to person, my father has been described as " some- 
what above the ordinary stature ; of light, florid com- 
plexion, light-blue eyes, nose strictly aquiline, and, in 
short, as his contemporaries have said, a fine-looking man. 
He possessed ardent feelings and great energy of char- 
acter united with a sound judgment. His integrity was 
proverbial, always doing exact justice to others, and 
expecting the same from them." 

My father's death was occasioned by an accidental fall 
in his barn, and was probably instantaneous. It occurred 
May 6, 1842, at the age of 73. 

My mother was born in Northbridge, May 5, 1778. 
She was a direct descendant, on her mother's side, of the 
sixth generation from her noted ancestor, " Sampson 
Mason, the Baptist and dragoon of Oliver Cromwell's 
army." Her great-grandfather, Hezekiah Mason, died in. 
Thompson, Conn., at the advanced age of 103 years. 

My mother died at the house of her eldest daughter, 
Mrs. Judge Barton, in Worcester, December 15, 1869, 
aged ninety-one years, seven months and ten days. Her 
son-in-law, the late Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, at her 
funeral thus spoke of her : — 



MY PARENTAGE 



13 



To this joyful coronation our beloved mother has come. All the 
days of her appointed years — years full of labor and duty — are accom- 
plished ; all her doubts are dispelled, all her anticipations realized ; all 
she hoped for in her long and noble life, and far more than human hope 
can ever aspire to, is now her portion. We come to shed no bitter 
tears ; we celebrate a triumph, not a defeat; a life perfected. 

Her children are gathered here with her more immediate friends and 
neighbors, to pay the last honors to her lifeless form. How sturdily, 
how nobly she lived ! Feeble, tender, but how enduring ! Never 
strong, no one would have marked her for a long life. Well do I 
remember her as first I saw her. I was then a lad in college. Even 
then I was struck by the energy of her character. I remember my 
impression then that she was weak in body, and liable to meet an early 
death. Who would have thought that she would survive that stalwart 
man, Dr. Bullard, of Sutton, so full of the capital for a long and sturdy 
life? In body, as in mind, she was evenly organized. Hers was the 
strength of tenderness and gentleness, but underlaid by a quiet persist- 
ence of wonderful force. She was firm and steadfast for the right, 
wherever principle was involved ; mild and loving, but with fixed 
habits of belief and thought, which kept her firm and true, even to 
sternness when occasion required. God taught her ! With her vigor 
of character it would have been easy for her to make shipwreck of 
happiness, linked as she was with that strong nature, her husband. It 
would have been easy for her to purchase peace by self-abnegation, by 
sinking herself, but she did neither. She made herself a power in her 
home, but she ruled by submission and love. She made her home a 
happy one ; and a greater compliment can be paid to no woman. She 
elevated the name of wife and mother, by showing in herself what it 
was possible for woman to be. 

Early was I struck with her devoutness, by the depth, the richness, 
and the reality of her religious emotions. The church was always her 
care. She remembered the pastor and his household, the school and 
the Sabbath-school. To the latter she was deeply attached, and often 
in the still hours of the night, when all the household were asleep, 
upon her knees frequently, and always reverently, did she study the 
portion of God's Word which was to be the lesson on the morrow. 

Well do I remember, in a great revival in Sutton, when the last of 
her class of thirteen rose to ask for prayers. All had been prayed into 
the kingdom, and by her. We had a gospel in our home. Her 
presence was a long benediction. If each one of her children, those 



14 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

gone before and those now living, could gather with us to-day and 
speak of her life, each would bear me witness that however much we 
may owe to the school, to the church, to the seminary, to ordaining 
elders, to the counselors of our riper years, yet the secret, the root, 
the fullness of each life was in the teaching, the counsel, the example 
of this mother. 

As age withdrew her from active duties of life, her piety became 
brighter and her conversation more heavenly. God calls some away in 
the midst of their usefulness ; some he calls in what men say is "just 
the right time ; " and sometimes he keeps people here just as we keep 
pictures in our dwellings, to look at and admire, for whole neighbor- 
hoods to look at and see what it is possible for life to become. 

That is the best man who carries his boyhood farthest into life with 
him. And that is the best woman who can take her girlhood farthest 
into middle life and old age. This our mother did. Herself a vener- 
able matron, she stood as a child among her grandchildren ; she stood 
as a loving child in her Father's home ^ all whom she saw, or felt, or 
received, were God's gifts. She lived in the liberty of love — a child, 
in the great house of her Father. 



CHAPTER II. 



MY EARLY YEARS. 



I WAS born in Northbridge, Worcester County, Massa- 
chusetts, March 26, 1804. I was the third of my 
parents' ten children. When I was one year old, the 
family — my parents with their three children — moved 
to Sutton, the town adjoining Northbridge on the west. 
This was afterwards our home till, one after another, we 
left the paternal roof. 

My parents, when they first established the family, 
erected the family altar, which was faithfully sustained to 
the end. The influence of that daily reading of the 
Scripture and prayer, generally both morning and 
evening, and the asking of a blessing and the returning 
of thanks at every meal, was most indelible. All these 
services of prayer and grace at the table were performed 
with all the family standing. To be sure, when we were 
very young they were sometimes, especially in the evening, 
rather wearisome to us little ones, and I well remember 
how I used to wonder to whom my father was talking, as 
he stood up there before the tall clock in the corner, with 
his hands on the back of the chair and his face turned 
away from all of us. 

Then, in the morning, my father would read, some- 
times, a whole chapter in Scott's Family Bible, with the 
Notes and Practical Observations. This, while we were 
quite young, was not a little tiresome. Scott's Commen- 
tary was then issued in large folio numbers. I can well 



15 



1 6 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

remember how each of those large magazines looked, as 
one number after another, once a month or once a quarter, 
came to our home, and with what eagerness we all used 
to look over each new number. I now have them all 
bound in six large volumes of from six hundred and fifty 
to nine hundred pages. And I reverence them highly as 
associated with my early home, my now sainted parents, 
and the sacred family altar. 

We were all trained, from very early life, to attend 
church. As we resided over three miles from the center 
of the town where was our place of public worship, father 
obtained a famous two-horse coach or carriage " for going 
to meeting." It had two wide seats and was open in 
front. And every Sabbath, rain or shine, summer and 
winter, this carriage, with father and two children on the 
front seat and mother and two on the back seat, and one 
or two packed away somewhere inside, would be seen on 
the way " to meeting." 

And how well I can recall many of the scenes in the 
church, which would be very strange to young and old of 
the present day. The square pews with the plain board 
seats on hinges, which were raised when we " stood up " 
in time of prayer, and at the close were let down with 
such a startling crash and rattle all over the house. 
Then the ice-cold house in the winter, with no fire except 
the foot-stoves of the women. There were always two 
services, with an intermission of about an hour. 

One of the older children, by turns, boys and girls, 
remained at home to take care of the little ones and have 
dinner ready when the rest returned. And we all learned 
to get a repast that the hungry ones were sure to relish. 

Among the things connected with "going to meeting" 
in those early days that made a great impression on my 



MY EARLY YEARS. I J 

young mind were those of the old stone horse-block, 
standing near the meeting-house. There was such an 
appendage to most of the country meeting-houses at that 
time. Many of the people came to meeting on horse- 
back, the husband and his wife, or a brother and sister 
mounted on the same horse. And the horse-block was 
for the special convenience of the women in mounting 
and dismounting. 

The old stone horse-block to which I am now referring 
consisted of a flat stone, six or eight feet long and per- 
haps three wide, elevated several feet by smaller stones,, 
and ascended by three or four stone steps. 

On and around this horse-block most of the men and 
boys, professors and non-professors, and even the deacons, 
in the warm season and on pleasant Sabbaths, passed 
their morning between the services. The time was spent 
in free and lively conversation. All the men took part 
in the talk without distinction of rank or learning, and 
none seemed to feel the slightest embarrassment. Men 
who never could speak in the prayer-meeting found no 
difficulty here. Till I was twelve or thirteen years old, 
as there was no Sabbath-school, I attended, what I have 
since called, this " horse-block class for conversation," and 
the scenes there witnessed are more vivid in my memory 
than are any of those I have since witnessed in the 
Sabbath-school. I do not remember that the sermon or 
the subject of religion in any manner was ever made the 
topic of conversation. The news of the day, the cattle 
and farms, the state and prospects of the crops, the 
weather, the prices of various articles of produce, the 
character of neighbors, politics, the approaching election, 
etc. ; — these were the themes upon which the older 
members of the " class," church members and the uncon- 



1 8 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

verted, usually conversed. Never can I forget the 
surprise and wonder those scenes produced on my youth- 
ful mind. Such conversation on the Sabbath day ! How 
could any good impressions follow the services of the 
house of God ? 

Towards night, or in the early evening of the Sabbath, 
we children all recited the catechism and passages of 
Scripture or hymns. 

Now, wearisome as sometimes these Sabbath services 
were, I would not for the life of me lose the associations 
of " going to meeting " on that holy day. 

Among the many little incidents of my early life which 
may be of more or less interest, especially to any young 
friends who may read these pages, may be mentioned the 
following : — 

The Blacksmith Shop. 

My father had a blacksmith shop ; and sometimes when 
not called away on professional duties, he would do little 
jobs in this shop in the evening. One evening, when I 
was a very little boy, I asked him to let me go with him 
and see him make nails. 

He said I would get sleepy and cry to come back. I 
thought I should n't ; and so was permitted to go with 
him. He fixed me a nice seat on the forge, where I could 
see him blow the bellows, heat the nail-rod red hot, and 
then hammer out the nails. It was real fun to watch him 
for some time. 

By-and-by I began to grow tired and sleepy ; and then I 
wished I was back at the house and in bed ; but I did not 
dare to say any thing about it. At length father looked 
up, and seeing that I was very sleepy and ready to cry, 
he asked : — 



MY EARLY YEARS. 



19 



" What is the matter, Asa ? " 
I said : — 

" I wish I was never made ! " 

Father drew the hot nail-rod out of the fire and raised 
it as though he was going to strike me, when I exclaimed : 
" I don't want to be killed, now I am made ! " 
Then, with a hearty laugh, he took me home to mother. 

The Big Cupboard. 

Between the kitchen and the dining, or sitting, room, 
there was a short passage-way. On the right hand, five 
or six feet high, there were two cupboards, a small and a 
large one, with doors. The small one was about a foot 
wide, with two or three shelves,, where small tools and all 
sorts of things were kept. The large one extended quite 
a distance back of the chimney. The door was about two 
feet square, with a small, heart-shaped hole near the top. 
Into this great space were thrown all sorts of larger 
things, boot-jacks, hammers, boxes, etc. It was a catch- 
all for every thing that any one wished to put out of the 
way. 

One day the roguish little Asa had done some mischief, 
when his father took him up and put him into the big 
cupboard and shut the door. 

A loud outcry was expected, but there was not a lisp. 
The parents and the other children waited and waited for 
some evidence that the little prisoner would understand 
that he was in solitary confinement as a punishment. But 
there was no complaint heard. 

By-and-by the father opened the prison-door, and there 
the little rogue was, having the nicest time with all the 
" playthings " he found around him ! But when the light 
was cut off from the hole at the top of the door, the little 
prisoner began to beg to be pardoned out. 



20 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

The Catcher Caught. 

The warm sun of early spring had begun to disrobe the 
earth of her winter mantle. Here and there around our 
home, in the yard and the fields, the snow had disappeared, 
and the fresh grass was just starting to view. The time 
of the singing of birds, too, had come, and many a red- 
breast, on every sunny spot, was seeking his food and fill- 
ing the air with his merry chirpings and sweet spring 
carolings. 

These welcome harbingers of coming verdure and 
flowers attracted my attention. I watched them ; but 
instead of making myself happy with their lovely exhibi- 
tion of happiness, I began to devise plans for catching 
them. With my little bow and arrow, and my sling and 
stones, I pursued them from spot to spot, and from field 
to field ; and many a poor, timid red-breast did I terribly 
frighten. By-and-by my roguish ingenuity hit upon a 
plan by which I was sure I could catch them. My plan 
was, to set a small fish-hook, expecting that the unwary 
bird would pick up the bait, and in a moment be safe in 
my hands. 

This cruel device no sooner entered my mind, than I 
hastened to try it. I obtained a small fish-hook, and 
began to fasten to it a little string. In order to secure it 
tightly I used my teeth. In this dangerous operation the 
string slipped, and in an instant the sharp, barbed hook, 
which I was preparing for the mouth of poor robin, was 
fast caught in my own. It entered into the soft and ten- 
der flesh inside of my under lip. The catcher was now 
caught, sure enough — caught, too, in his own snare, 
which he was setting for another ! What was I to do ? I 
could not remove the cruel hook. The barb, intended on 



MY EARLY YEARS. 21 

purpose to fasten it tightly in the mouth of the innocent 
fish or bird that should swallow it, was firmly fastened in 
my lip. 

With great pain and fear, both increased by the con- 
sciousness that I was receiving only a just desert for my 
intended cruelty, I hastened to my mother. She tried to 
remove it, but in vain. I then went to my father, with 
whose sharp surgical instruments I was painfully familiar. 
Those frightful instruments — the very sight of which 
made me turn pale and tremble anew with fear — father 
now took out and laid upon the table. After much suffer- 
ing, the hook was at length removed, leaving in my lip a 
deep wound ; but a deeper impression was left upon my 
mind. 

Years have passed away since that wound was healed ; 
but the impression on my mind remains like the deep lines 
of the sculptor's chisel upon the marble. I then regarded 
this occurrence, and I still regard it, as a deserved punish- 
ment for my intended cruelty. I learned, by my own sad 
experience, that what was to be sport to me would have 
been, had I succeeded in my cruel purpose, pain and 
suffering to those innocent and beautiful songsters of 
spring. 

I trust this story of my early days may be a warning 
to all my young friends against indulgence in cruelty 
towards any of God's creatures. 

My Spreading-stick. % 

About the time of the above event, when four or five 
years old, in hay-time, I begged my father to make me a 
spreading-stick. After frequent importunities my request 
was granted. The spreading-stick was made of a small 
sapling, three or four feet long, which had two branches 



2 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

at the top. These were cut off five or six inches from 
the stick, making two tines, like those of a fork. 

With my coveted spreading-stick I went proudly into 
the fields, and followed the men who were cutting down 
the tall grass into swathes, and spread the new-mown hay 
in every direction, as I had seen others do. And didn't 
I feel smart as I made the hay fly ! I was doing a man's 
work. 

Well, many a boy knows that what is at first a play 
may become work. It was not long before I began to 
find it so with my spreading-stick. When it was found 
that I could spread hay, and be made useful, and save 
some of the time the men had to give in doing this work, 
I had to spread the hay. It was no longer play ; it was 
work. And many a time, when my little arms and legs 
became tired in this labor, I wished I had never asked for 
the spreading-stick. And yet, this early learning to work 
and be useful has been a great benefit to me in my after 
life. 

There was one very curious event in connection with 
my spreading-stick. My Grandfather Waters, of Boston, 
used occasionally to visit his old home in Sutton. In 
hay-time, almost every year, he would come; and he 
seemed to find pleasure in assisting in the hay-field. 

One day when father was absent, grandfather went into 
the field with the men to rake up the hay. This was 
soon after I had my spreading-stick, and I was on hand 
spreading the swaths, By-and-by I went to the windrow 
grandpa was raking up, and began to spread the hay out 
again. Grandpa saw me and said I must not do it. But 
my memory was very short, and soon I was spreading out 
the hay after grandpa. He then told me if I did it again 
he should have to shake me. It was not long before — 



MY EARLY YEARS. 



23 



boy fashion — I was repeating the mischief. Grandpa 
saw me and started towards me, when the wicked little 
rogue threw his spreading-stick at him and then ran. But 
grandpa soon overtook me and gave me a shaking — not a 
hard one, but enough to cause me to go crying to the 
house. 

The good old man was troubled lest I should go with a 
complaint to my mother, and she might think he had 
assumed improper authority over her child. But that 
child, young as he was, knew better than to go to his 
mother with any such complaint. He kept his grief to 
himself. 

At dinner grandfather told mother about the affair, 
which I had not ventured to mention. Then to show her 
that he was not severe, he arose from the table and took 
me from my chair and shook me again ! That second 
shaking I did not soon forget. It hurt my feelings more 
than it did my body. 

Some months after this, grandfather died in Boston, and 
his body was brought to Sutton and laid in his family 
tomb, about a mile from our home. One Sabbath, after 
the family returned from meeting, and had dined, father 
and mother and one or two of us children went to the 
tomb. They opened the lid of the coffin to see the face 
of the departed. Father lifted me up and said that was 
my " Grandpa Waters." I asked if it was the grandpa 
that shook me. And when told that it was, I said : — 

" Well, I guess he won't shake me again." 

That shows how badly I felt, though I so richly 
deserved the shaking. 

Sad Influence of a Profane Man. 

In my early boyhood I was a bundle of nerves, — all life 
and spirits, — scarcely still an instant, except when asleep. 



2 4 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

I was always doing something ; and of course frequently 
things I ought not to do ; so from my earliest days my 
life has been a very busy one. My grandfather would 
lose his patience when he found every thing he wanted out 
of place, or rather when it was not to be found at all. He 
used to say : — 

" Asa will make something or nothing ; " meaning that 
I would not be one of your halfway characters. Should 
I live long enough, that saying may prove true. 

Although I was always so full of mischief, yet some- 
how I always had friends. My little pranks and constant 
glee seemed to attract the notice and win the affection of 
most of those in my father's employ from time to time. 

About the time of which I am speaking my father 
erected a new building, and among the men engaged 
in the work, was a man from a neighboring town whom 
I will call Mr. Pierson. Very soon I attracted his atten- 
tion and gained his love ; and, in return, I thought there 
was nobody like my new friend. Every moment of rest 
and leisure Mr. Pierson was frolicking with me. Such 
was the mutual attachment between us, that his influence 
over me was almost unbounded. And it was a dreadful 
influence. Mr. Pierson was a man of no religious princi- 
ples. Without exception he was the most profane man 
I ever knew. He would hardly utter a word without an 
oath. His habit of profanity had become so inveterate 
that it seemed almost as involuntary as his breathing. 
The wife of a clergyman, for whom he was working at one 
time, reproved him, when he pleasantly replied : — 

" Why, madam, I don't mean any thing when I swear, 
any more than you do when you pray." 

My attachment to Mr. Pierson and my confidence in 
him were so great that the influence of all the instruc- 



MY EARLY YEARS. 25 

tions of my pious parents was neutralized, so that I felt 
that whatever my friend did or said must be right and 
proper. It was Mr. Pierson's greatest pleasure to witness 
my cunning tricks, and he was constantly encouraging me 
on to deeds of mischief; and this was not the worst of his 
influence. He would prompt me to some wrong act, and 
then teach me to deny it, always presenting himself as a 
witness — a false witness — in my favor, so as to shield me 
from correction. Many a time did I, through this wicked 
influence, and supported by the false testimony of this 
wicked man, cast my faults upon my elder brother, who 
had to suffer the reproof which I alone deserved. This 
cruel, wicked conduct I should never have been guilty of, 
had I not been led on by one in whom I had reposed entire 
confidence — centered my warmest affection. Through 
the influence of that false friend I " was made to sin," as 
" Jeroboam made Israel to sin." 

There was only one occasion in which I ever used pro- 
fane language. The time and the spot are indelibly en- 
graven on my mind. I was returning from school with 
my elder brother and sister, and was near home. All at 
once I began to utter a string of the most dreadful, wicked 
words, such as I had heard Mr. Pierson use. They were 
put together in all sorts of ways. My brother and sister 
were filled with astonishment and terror, and cried out : — 

" Why, Asa ! you will certainly go to the place of the 
wicked if you use such awful words ! " 

But I only replied : " I don't care ! Mr. Pierson will go 
there too ; and I want to go where he does." 

On reaching home mother was told what I had been 
doing. And never shall I forget the sad and painful ex- 
pression of that dear mother's face. She did not scold 
me — she never did that — but oh ! how tenderly and 



2 6 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

solemnly she spoke of the sinfulness of what I had done. 
And she warned me and entreated me never again to use 
such wicked words. 

How fearful the effect upon me of that profane and 
wicked man ! The mischief of his influence for those 
few weeks it took months and months of instruction and 
reproof and prayer to counteract. Oh, the guilt of making 
others to sin ! 

The habit of falsehood, formed under the influence of 
Mr. Pierson, continued til] I was about seven years of age. 
I also grew fretful and would cry at every trifle. I thus 
became a trial and grief to my father and mother. When 
about seven years old, I came into the house one day and 
said to my mother : — 

" There ! I am going to stop crying and lying." And 
my mother, years after, told me that she never detected 
me in a falsehood afterwards. That shows that even chil- 
dren know when they do wrong ; and that they can, if 
they will, " cease to do evil and learn to do well." 

Fifteen or twenty years passed away, and Mr. Pierson 
became a reformed man — a vessel of the grace of God. 
Yes, this blasphemer was brought in penitence to the 
foot of the cross. His breath, so long spent in oaths, was 
now spent in prayer and praise. The remembrance of his 
influence over me — that he had made me to sin — was to 
him a source of the most bitter sorrow and remorse. He 
often expressed a desire, as I was told, once more to see 
me ; but we have never met, nor shall we meet again, till 
we meet at the judgment bar. Many years ago he finished 
his earthly course. 

The Famous Wind-mill. 

My father had a large head of cattle, oxen, cows, horses, 
sheep, etc. It was no small affair to pump all the water 



MY EARL Y YEARS. 



27 



these thirsty creatures needed. One of us boys always 
had to go home from school at noon in the winter three 
quarters of a mile to pump that huge trough full of water. 
It used to take about half an hour of the most laborious 
pumping to fill it. And this had to be done at least three 
times every day. 

The subject of some easier way of doing this was often 
discussed. The plan finally adopted was to place on the 
barn, directly over the pump, a wind-mill. It was a most 
thoroughly made piece of machinery, with six large arms. 
Most of the time, when set to work, it performed its task 
admirably, just like a thing of life. With an ordinary 
.wind it would fill the trough in a few minutes. Then the 
handle of the pump, to which the distaff was attached, 
was chained down, and the mill was quietly at rest. 

But when there was a brisk wind, it would often throw 
the water from the top of the pump to the top of the 
barn, and pump the well dry in a few moments. And 
sometimes it was not an easy thing to chain the giant. 
Father would have to go up a ladder on the barn, get 
upon the trundle-head, and by means of the weather- 
board turn the mill round against the wind and chain one 
of the arms. This was a somewhat daring and dangerous 
business. We were often not a little frightened at the 
furious antics of this monster ; but no measures were 
taken to abate the cause of our alarm till after the great 
gale on the seventeenth of September, 181 5. 

In that gale the mill broke loose, broke off the distaff 
connected with the pump-handle, and then, for hours, 
whirled with the most frightful velocity, throwing off one 
board after another from the arms. The people in the 
village, half a mile distant, could see the barn swaying 
back and forth, and expected every moment that mill and 



2 8 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY IIFE. 

barn and all would go to ruin. Father went into the 
stable right under the wind-mill, to get out a horse, when 
a board from one of the arms of the mill dashed through 
the barn directly over his head. The next summer, in 
mowing one of the fields an eighth of a mile distant, 
boards were found driven into the ground, thrown off from 
the windmill. Had it not been for the heavy rain that 
accompanied the gale, the velocity of the mill, it was 
thought, would have set the barn on fire. 

This was the death-struggle of the famous wind-mill. 
It was taken down ; and we boys were quite willing to go 
back to the old hand-pumping, rather than risk any more 
such occasions of terror. 

Stricken Down by Lightning. 

In my early boyhood, one sultry summer day, there was 
a fearful thunder-shower. The lightning struck several 
times near our house. By-and-by there was a terrific bolt 
that ran down a conductor, tearing up the flag-stones at 
the back side of the house. My mother and myself were 
prostrated by the shock. The effect of that scene was 
such that, till I left my home for college and got away 
from the associations of that event, I trembled with fear 
on the approach of a thunder-shower, and, during its 
continuance, would hide away in some corner and cover 
my head and quake with terror. And even through life 
I have felt much as the little girl did, who was told that 
the " thunder was God's voice ; " she put her hands to 
her ears and, looking up imploringly, said : " Dear Father, 
please do not speak quite so loud." 

I can sympathize with the little boy who said, after the 
earthquake in Charleston, that he was " afraid of the sky- 
quakes ! " 



MY EARL Y YEARS. 



2 9 



And then, the great gale on the seventeenth of Septem- 
ber, 181 5, when I was about eleven years old (referred to 
in the preceding incident), so frightened me that I have 
always rejoiced that my lot was not cast in those places 
so often visited with cyclones and blizzards and earth- 
quakes. I often say: "The thunder-showers I like best 
are those that rain on us — and thunder somewhere else." 

An Alarm. 

In my boyhood I was, as it is called, very "unfortunate." 
Many were my disasters and " hairbreadth 'scapes." My 
accidents and injuries were so frequent that I seemed to 
become accustomed to wounds and bruises. And my 
mother used to say : " It does n't seem to hurt Asa to be 
hurt, as much as it does other boys." 

When I was perhaps twelve years of age, my elder 
brother and I had just returned from school at night, and 
were attending to our usual duties at the barn. I was 
running along the stone walk by the side of the barn, to 
open a stable door, when a lazy old ox, for once quicken- 
ing his pace to escape the sharp horns that pursued him, 
ran upon the walk, crushing me between himself and the 
barn. 

As soon as I was free I turned and ran a few steps 
across the yard towards the house, and fell prostrate upon 
my face. My brother, not suspecting I was injured, 
called to me : " Come, Asa, get up, and not try to frighten 
me by 'making believe' that you are hurt." 

But I did not stir nor speak. My brother then took 
hold of me to lift me up ; and who can tell his alarm 
when he saw the blood running from my mouth, and 
found my muscles all relaxed, and that I had ceased to 
breathe ? He hastened to the window of the room where 



3<D INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

mother was sitting with her infant child, and cried with 
a voice of agony : — 

" Mother, Asa 's dead ! Do come quick ! " 

What an alarm to that mother ! She sprang from her 
chair and, in her fright, almost threw her babe upon the 
floor instead of the bed, and in a moment they weijp at 
the yard. I had risen, and stood with my eyes closed, 
reeling as if half-asleep. I was led into the house, and 
after a little care and nursing was restored, though for 
some time it was feared the blood came from an internal 
injury. It was found, however, that it came from my 
mouth, which was wounded by the fall. 

From the moment I was crushed till I was taken into 
the house, I was unconscious, my breath having been 
pressed out of my body. I felt, in recovering myself, 
bewildered, as one sometimes does when awaking out of 
sleep in a strange place. While unconscious, I was in a 
sort of dream and thought I was engaged in some amuse- 
ment with my school-mates. 

This event was the subject of much conversation in the 
family, and it produced, for awhile, a thoughtful state of 
mind with both myself and my brother. We felt that it 
was a very narrow escape. A little severer pressure, and I 
should never have recovered my breath. It was a solemn 
thought to us, that death had been so near us ; and to me 
it was doubly solemn, from a consciousness that I was 
all unprepared to meet the "king of terrors." Such a 
warning ought to have led me to make immediate prepa- 
rations for the disasters of life and the solemn hour of 
death. But several years after this admonition of God's 
providence passed away before I was brought to cry : 
"My Father, thou art the guide of my youth." 



MY EARL Y YEARS. 



31 



Trifling with Danger. 

The autumn with its rich harvest had returned. The 
barns of the husbandman were well filled with the golden 
sheaves. In every direction were heard the quick sound 
of the flails that were beating out the precious grain, and 
of the winnowing mill that was separating it from the 
chaff and preparing it for the garner. 

One day we were winnowing a large pile of oats. The 
machine was one of the earliest patterns — large, with 
wooden cogs, and requiring considerable strength to work 
it. My oldest brother and I turned the mill and father 
fed it. Long hours were spent in this fatiguing and 
monotonous labor. 

To give a little variety, and to divert our minds from 
our weariness, I began, as I turned with my left hand, 
with my right to pull down the swift -flying cogs — a most 
dangerous business. But as I was sprightly and quick- 
motioned, for a long time I managed to catch them and 
escape the danger. By-and-by, as I pursued this foolish 
amusement, I became a little careless and inattentive, and 
in a moment one of my fingers was caught and crushed 
in the machinery. Although both of us were turning the 
mill rapidly, yet it was stopped the instant the finger was 
caught, as though it had been a solid stick or a bar of 
iron. A sudden change came over the feelings of that 
merry-making boy ! The accident was so sudden that the 
finger was benumbed, and for a long time there was no 
pain ; but what a sight to behold ! — all crushed and man- 
gled, with little pieces of bones projecting through the 
broken skin and flesh ! 

My father took me by the wrist and, holding up my 
hand, led me to the house. As we walked along in sad- 



3 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

ness, the broken finger was hanging down upon the back 
of the hand, and the dark blood collecting into the palm. 

As we entered the house, my poor mother had another 
fright, and to the fright was added the painful reflection 
— and one that I had already felt — that this sad disaster 
was the result of carelessness and a very foolish trifling 
with danger. My parents used to say that I was always 
putting my fingers where I should not, and if there was 
any danger, that I would be sure to run into it, so as to 
see how it would hurt any one. In a few moments father's 
surgical instruments appeared, filling my mind with the 
most appalling apprehensions, and arrangements were made 
to amputate the wounded finger. 

"O father!" I said, "don't cut it off; can't you save 
it ? O father, I don't want to lose it ! How badly it will 
make my hand look, and then I can not write. Do save it, 
father, won't you ? " 

These importunities of his almost broken-hearted boy 
led father to take a more careful examination, to ascer- 
tain if it could in any way be saved. The numbness 
had now passed away, and it had come to its feeling ; and 
as father pressed the bruised, crushed bones and flesh to- 
gether, to get the finger into shape, it called forth bitter 
tears and cries from the sufferer, and large drops of sweat 
rolled down my cheeks. Young persons may not be aware 
of the fact that a wound on a finger — on account of the 
great number and delicacy of the nerves in that little 
member, which aid us so much in feeling — is much more 
painful than one on the larger and more muscular mem- 
bers of the body. 

A long and minute examination led father to attempt to 
save the finger. There was a large piece of bone on one 
side that must be removed, but it was too firmly connected 



MY EARLY YEARS. 



33 



with the finger to be removed at once. The finger was 
dressed, and after sufferings such as I had never experi- 
enced before, I was laid on the bed, with my poor hand 
resting upon a pillow. There I reflected upon the scene 
through which I had passed, and bewailed my folly, and, 
like thousands of others, made resolutions of improve- 
ment, only to be broken again when I should recover. 

Every morning the wound was dressed, and new efforts 
made to remove the splinter of bone. These were seasons 
of great pain. Several days had passed, and the bone still 
remained. Unless it could be removed, the whole finger 
must be lost. I was so anxious to have it saved that I 
said : — 

' " Father, if I am crying ever so hard from pain when 
you are trying to get out that bone, and you should get it 
out, I should laugh right out for joy." 

The day arrived when arrangements were to be made for 
amputating the finger. Father worked a long time in the 
morning to remove the bone, but did not succeed. By- 
and-by I asked him to try once more. He consented, and 
after repeated efforts, the long splinter gave way and was 
taken out, and, while the tears were rolling down my 
cheeks and I was suffering the most acute pain, as soon as 
I saw the bone in my father's instruments I burst into a 
hearty laugh of joy: "O father ! I am so glad ! I am so 
glad. Now my finger will be saved ! " 

After many weeks and much suffering, my broken fin- 
ger was entirely healed. The middle joint is now almost 
stiff, and is much larger than it ought to be, and the 
finger, though it was the longest on the hand, is now 
only about the length of the forefinger, and it has a large 
callous inside. Although somewhat injured in its appear- 
ance, and less serviceable than it would have been if 



3 4 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY IIFE. 

uninjured, yet I have not a finger that I cherish so much 
as this one. It is on the same principle that the lost 
sheep, when found, is rejoiced over more than the ninety- 
and-nine that went not astray, and that one sinner that 
repenteth causeth more joy among the angels of God, 
than ninety-and-nine just persons that need no repent- 
ance. 

In this incident we have an admonition against trifling 
with danger ; and we have, too, an exhibition of the endur- 
ing effects of a single foolish action. That broken finger 
I shall carry with me to my grave, a constant, ever-present 
remembrancer of the folly of my youth. 

A Beautiful Vest. 

It was very common, in my early days, for girls to braid 
straw for ladies' bonnets, and now and then boys would 
engage in the same work. My parents offered me all I 
could earn if I would spend some of my leisure hours, 
when out of school, and when my part of the "chores" 
were done, in braiding. I soon learned to braid, and it 
was not long before I could make my clumsy boy-fingers 
fly nearly as fast as the little, delicate, limber girl-fingers 
of my sisters. 

After I had learned to braid well I could obtain three 
cents a yard for my work, and on one holiday, besides all 
my duties about the barn, etc., I machined my straw and 
braided eleven yards — thus earning thirty-three cents ! 
While I was earning this handsome little sum, many of my 
associates, who were keeping holiday at the town meeting, 
doubtless spent nearly or quite as much for cake and 
candy, and at night were not half so happy as I was. Their 
money had perished in the using ; mine, with its increase, 
was still in my pocket. 



MY EARLY YEARS. 



35 



Among the many things that I purchased with my 
braid-money from time to time was what I regarded as a 
very beautiful vest. I thought there never was a vest that 
was quite as handsome as mine. And it was, in my eye, 
ever so much handsomer for having been earned by myself 

— bought with my own money. Why, I can even now 
remember just how that cherished, almost idolized vest 
looked ; those pearly buttons and those beautiful little 
spots of white and yellow silk all over it. I suspect, if 
the truth were only known, that vest sometimes caused 
my heart to swell with feelings of pride. If so, I hope 
long ere this I have repented of it, and that I now see the 
folly of being proud of dress, when even the poor butterfly 

— the creature of a day — can boast of a gayer dress 
than we ; and the lily of the field is more beauteously 
arrayed than even Solomon in all his glory. 

In my early days there was very little done to train the 
children to give their earnings and savings for the benefit 
of others. There were no Sabbath-schools or societies to 
collect penny contributions to send good books and papers 
to the destitute. 

If braiding straw were as common now as in my early 
days, how easy it would be for all children — boys and 
girls — to earn the money for their contributions! But 
there are other ways of earning money now, so that all 
who try can bear a part in the work of benevolence. 
"Where there 's a will, there 's always a way." 

My First Visit to Boston. 

How enchanting are country scenes to city children ! 
Little do those brought up among them know with what 
delight those from the city look upon every tree and shrub 
and flower, upon every stream and hillside and meadow, in 
their visits to the country. 



36 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

Then with what wonder do the children from the farms 
gaze upon the many beautiful and attractive things in the 
city ! What a marvel are the splendid mansions, broad 
and pleasant streets, all smoothly paved, all kinds of stores 
and warehouses, with every variety of things for sale, all 
exposed so temptingly in the huge windows with their 
immense panes of glass, from the little candy-shop, with 
every thing pleasant to the eye and sweet to the taste of 
children, to the grand marble or granite warehouse, filled 
with the most costly goods ! All these things are no 
doubt attractive to city children, but they are perfect 
marvels of interest to the children from the country. 

Can I ever forget my first visit to the city of Boston, 
when eleven years of age ? Oh, no ! When I first came 
in sight of it, and saw in the distance such a pile of brick 
buildings, with the dome of the State House towering 
above them, and such a forest of church steeples and 
masts of ships, how the cold chills ran over me, almost as if 
I were approaching an army all ready for battle ! When I 
entered the city, what a source of wonder were the signs ! 
I could never cease gazing at those of the apothecary 
shops. Here was hung up a great golden mortar and 
pestle, or the gilded bust of a venerable man, perhaps of 
the apothecary himself. Then those large glass globes and 
tall glass jars filled with red and blue and green liquids, 
that I supposed were medicines that were exhibited for 
sale. Then here was a large hat, big enough for Goliath 
of Gath, hung over a store. Then there was a shoe or 
boot hung up, that would make a very nice dwelling for 
the " woman who lived in a shoe, and had so many chil- 
dren she did n't know what to do." Then there was a per- 
fect model of a sheep, with a fleece of the whitest wool, 
standing all sedate and solemn on the top of a high pillar. 



MY EARL Y YEARS. 



37 



At another store were hanging out whole suits of clothes, 
coats, pants, and vests, with the cunningest little jackets 
and trowsers for boys. 

"Father," I at length inquired, with the utmost curi- 
osity, " father, why do they have all these things hanging 
up in the front of these stores ?" 

"These are signs, my son, of the things they have in- 
side to sell. That great book, so richly bound in gilt, 
hanging over that door across the street, shows that that 
is a store where they have books to sell ; and that large 
hat, big enough for a giant, is the sign of a hat store ; and 
those coats and pants yonder show that they have men's 
and boys' clothes, all ready made, for sale." 

"Well, father," I asked, "why don't they hang out a 
man to show where the lawyers are ? " 

Father said they might, perhaps, hang out a writ. 

In this visit to the city how bewildering was the inces- 
sant and confused noise of the heavy trucks of those days, 
— on which they carried hogsheads of molasses, great 
bales of cotton and wool, and all kinds of goods, — and of 
all kinds of wagons and carriages as they were continually 
passing over the pavements ! How the rumble sounded 
in my ears, for days after leaving the city ! And what 
crowds of people on the sidewalks, keeping one on the 
dodge all the while, lest he should be knocked down and 
tumbled into the street. What a wonder this visit to Bos- 
ton was to me ! And what marvelous stories, of what I 
had seen, I had to tell my brothers and sisters on my re- 
turn ! How their big eyes did stare with wonder at the 
recital ! 

The surprise and wonder with which I gazed, for the 
first time, upon the marvelous scenes of Boston, were, 
doubtless, only what many a child and youth has felt on 
his first visit to a city. 



CHAPTER III. 

OUR NEIGHBORHOOD AND HOMESTEAD. 

OUR home in West Sutton is a part of one of the most 
beautiful landscapes, of a mile and a half or two 
miles in extent, in the central part of Massachusetts. 
A former governor of the state once said that " the pan- 
oramic view from this farm was the most charming he 
knew of in the commonwealth." There is nothing mag- 
nificent or especially picturesque in it, but it is all lovely 
and beautiful. 

From near the center, where there is a pretty village, 
it rises with a gentle ascent in almost every direction. 
The land is rich, and a large portion of it in a state of 
cultivation. The numerous farms are laid out in square 
or oblong fields, like patch-work, enclosed with neat stone 
fences ; and when the various kinds of grains and grasses 
are ripening, it presents — with its border of woods, with 
Mount Wachusett in the distance, and its several small 
sheets of water, with the comfortable white farm-houses 
and their little clusters of out-buildings, scattered more 
or less nearly together over the whole landscape — a 
lovely view. 

Our homestead, of one hundred acres, with its large, 
square, white dwelling-house, two barns, shops, and other 
out-buildings, is on the southern ascent of this landscape, 
a half-mile from the village, or, as it was called, the street. 

Our mansion-house, which is a very substantial and 
still well-preserved structure, was erected in 1767. A 
magnificent elm, whose branches cover an area of more 



OUR NEIGHBORHOOD AND HOMESTEAD. 39 

than three hundred feet in circumference, is still standing 
a few rods west of the house, and is one of the most 
conspicuous landmarks in the neighborhood, if not in the 
town, of Sutton. This elm, it is said, Rev. Henry Ward 
Beecher had in mind when he described the big tree in 
" Norwood." 

It is gratifying to all the connections of the family now 
living to know that a considerable portion of the old 
farm is still retained in the family name. 

But sin seems to mar and deface even the beauties of 

nature, so that we are obliged to exclaim with the poet, in 

regard to this neighborhood : — 

" Every prospect pleases, 
And only man is vile." 

A knowledge of the moral aspect of the place at that 
time caused the Christian to view it with feelings some- 
what like those with which he would have contemplated 
Eden, after innocence had drawn over her lovely face the 
veil of sorrow. Few portions of the state were more 
perfectly given up to intemperance and every species of 
immorality. Very few of the inhabitants for many years 
were professing Christians, and some of those few were 
no great honor to their profession. Few were the altars 
on which was offered the sacrifice of prayer ; and for 
scores of years a conversion was hardly known except in 
one or two families. " Like parents, like children." 

Drear and desolate indeed is that neighborhood, how- 
ever many its natural beauties and artificial adornments, 
where God is not acknowledged, and where intemperance 
and its kindred vices, like demons of night, rule over the 
people. 

Many years ago, while on a visit to my early home, in 
conversation with my mother, the moral and religious con- 



40 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY IIFE. 

dition of this neighborhood was considered. In this con- 
versation we canvassed the state of the ninety-eight 
families that were located in an area of one mile and a 
half or two miles. And this was the result of the can- 
vass : In twenty-seven of these families the parents were 
professedly Christians. In these families there were one 
hundred and twenty-five children over fifteen years of age. 
Of these, eighty-four, or about two thirds, were hopefully 
pious. Four were ministers of the gospel ; five were dea- 
cons ; and one was dissipated. In nineteen of these 
families, one parent in each family was pious, and all but 
one were mothers. There were ninety-five children over 
fifteen years of age. Of these thirty-one, or about one 
third, were hopefully pious ; four were ministers ; seven 
were dissipated, and the fathers of five of these seven 
were also dissipated. In fifty-two of these families — 
most of them residing in what is called "the street"- — 
neither parent was professedly a Christian. Of their one 
hundred and thirty-nine children over fifteen years of age, 
only thirteen were interested in religion ; and not one of 
those became interested till they had left the neighbor- 
hood and gone out from under parental influence and 
instruction ! Twenty-five of these children were dissi- 
pated, and the fathers of thirteen of them were also dis- 
sipated ; and all were in the daily use of intoxicating 
liquor ! 

I am happy to be able to say that, of late 'years, there 
have been great changes for the better in this neighbor- 
hood. 

My nephew, Henry B. Bullard, who has a store in ''the 
street," and cares for the "Bullard Hill" farm, in answer 
to my inquiries in regard to the present moral condition 
of that neighborhood, thus writes : — 



OUR NEIGHBORHOOD AND HOMESTEAD. 4 1 

At present our little church of seventy members is in a prosperous 
condition. Twenty were added by baptism about one year ago, and 
we expect four or five to unite with us next month. We have one of 
the best of ministers. The congregation averages nearly one hundred ; 
and the Sabbath-school, of which I have been the superintendent for 
some time, about seventy ; and it is in a flourishing condition. We 
have a Sabbath-school concert every month. 

The old hotel has undergone a great change. The proprietors, who 
are very good people, have expended about $2,000 in thoroughly reno- 
vating it. It is in the best condition I ever knew it to be. If ardent 
spirits are sold, it is done very quietly. We scarcely ever see an 
intoxicated person here. The houses in the village have nearly all been 
painted within two years. I can not remember when the village looked 
so neat and clean as at the present time. No rough characters live 
here. 

The buildings at the old homestead are running down. The house 
is in good repair, and only needs painting. Two winters ago, the ice 
injured the old elm very much. Several large limbs, two of them over 
a foot through and about thirty feet long, were broken off. We took 
off nearly a cord of wood. The farm is in good condition ; the walls 
are all kept up. We have about a thousand apple-trees, which I prune 
every third year. 



CHAPTER IV. 

HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 

SEVEN sons and three daughters, all to be educated, 
was surely no small matter. How to do it properly, 
situated as his family was, often cost my father and 
mother much anxious thought and prayer. 

The village, referred to in a previous chapter, half a mile 
from our home, though beautiful and lovely in its natural 
features, as has been noted, was then morally one of the 
darkest spots in New England. Its tavern was the resort 
of the lowest class of persons in all that section of the 
county. The youth in the vicinity, instead of employing 
their leisure time in mental and moral improvement, were 
taught to waste their long winter evenings in the dancing- 
school and the ball-room, or in company with the vile at 
the tavern. 

One would naturally suppose that such a neighborhood 
was a sad place in which to train a family of ten children. 
But my parents' puritanic notions of family government 
and their unfailing trust in God's promises to faith- 
ful Christian parents, and their wise plans for all neces- 
sary amusement and recreation for their children, were 
such that the influence of that village was rather helpful 
both to the parents and the children. It led the parents 
to see the great need of wisdom and watchfulness in their 
mode of family training, and there was before them all 
most affecting illustrations of the loathsomeness of intem- 
perance and all its kindred vices. There were very few 
men and boys in that neighborhood who did not carry the 

42 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 43 

marks of that low vice, and it was a warning to the chil- 
dren of the Bullard Hill Farm not to go in the way of the 
wicked, but to avoid it — to turn from it and pass away. 
They learned to look with pity upon those who were grow- 
ing up in ignorance of their danger and wickedness. 

Our parents regarded a wise Christian family govern- 
ment as the basis of all true Christian nurture. They 
believed that God had invested parents with authority to 
be used in promoting the good of their children ; that 
they were to use this authority " in the Lord," just as 
truly as that children were to " obey their parents in the 
Lord " ; that disobedience to parents and to all proper 
authority was also disobedience to God ; that it was much 
more common and much easier for an obedient child to 
give his heart to God than for one who is disobedient, 
ungoverned. So that parents should, in a proper spirit, 
use all the authority God had given them to prevent disobe- 
dience ; and if they did not do it, they would be accessory 
to all the sins that grow out of disobedience. And they 
considered disobedience to proper authority as the great, 
crying sin of the universe. It expelled the fallen angels 
out of heaven ; it drove our first parents out of Eden ; and 
it brought sin and all our woes into the world. Hence, in 
their estimation, no parent, to avoid an unpleasant duty, 
was at liberty to leave a child to grow up unrestrained and 
ungoverned. 

With these views our parents sought to bring us up in 
the good old Abrahamic, Solomonic, puritanic way of obe- 
dience. Very likely many in our neighborhood thought we 
were brought up very strictly. But all we children knew 
about it was that there were certain amusements that 
the children and young people around us were accus- 
tomed to indulge in, that our parents did not think proper 



44 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

for us ; and so they would always provide for us some 
other and safer enjoyments. 

There were few families in which there was a more 
delightful social intercourse between parents and children 
than in this family, that others thought so strict. Punish- 
ment was very seldom found necessary to secure obedi- 
ence. The reason was that we children early learned 
that the only way to avoid it was by prompt and 
cheerful obedience. This stopping to ask Why ? when 
father or mother gave direction we never dreamed of 
doing. We learned that our parents' commands were 
not arbitrary, but always designed for our good ; they 
were always right and just. The angels in heaven are 
never heard murmuring and complaining of the commands 
of their great Maker ! Oh, no ; they are ever watching 
to know his will, and ready to spread their joyful wings 
on errands of obedience and mercy. 

With such a neighborhood as has been described our 
parents saw the need of great wisdom in devising 
plans by which their children might be kept from the 
scenes of dissipation and rioting there indulged in on all 
holidays. It would not do for them to forbid our min- 
gling in those scenes, unless they provided some other 
amusements for us more rational and more interesting. 
Should they do this they well knew it would be natural for 
us to become impatient of such restraint and to seek to 
break away from their control. 

To avoid this danger, and to gratify their own desires to 
do every thing they could for our pleasure and happiness, 
the sons of our minister and of several members of our 
church and congregation, in town, were invited to spend 
"election day," then the popular holiday in our state, 
with us at our home. And what a day that was ! No 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 



45 



pains or expense were spared to provide for us twenty- 
boys entertainment and amusement. Father spent the 
day with us, keeping tally in our games, and now and 
then, as the game began to lose its power to please, sug- 
gesting some other, perhaps some game of his own 
boyish days. Was there ever a happier set of boys than 
were that day gathered at Bullard Hill ? Our good 
mother entered into the occasion with the greatest inter- 
est. She prepared a rich and inviting dinner, with even 
more care than she would have done for the parents of 
the invited guests. 

As each public holiday returned these boys gathered at 
some one of the different homes, till we were old enough 
to seek our amusements in social visits with our sisters. 

Then, whenever the young people of the neighborhood 
arranged for a sleigh-ride with a ball, or any other amuse- 
ments in which we were not likely to engage, our parents 
were ever ready to arrange for us a pleasant ride and a 
good social time in our happy home on our return. We 
all knew it was not the expense of an entertainment at 
some public house that our parents wished to avoid, but it 
was to shield us from the temptations and unhappy influ- 
ences to which such scenes would expose us. 

Now the result of this mode of family government and 
training was that all the ten children of this family 
united with the church, and all but one or two before they 
were of age. 

Then we lived, as has been said, over three miles from 
our place of worship, and there was scarcely a family 
within a mile that had any sympathy with us in regard to 
the proper observance of the Sabbath. All this led us to 
rely upon ourselves for associates and recreation. It very 
early became our custom, thus isolated, for parents and 



46 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY IIFE. 

children to spend our leisure winter evenings together, 
while some one read aloud an interesting and valuable 
book, in regard to which any one was at liberty to ask 
questions or make remarks. In this way, many of the 
most important works of history were read, and we 
became acquainted with the government, religion, man- 
ners, and customs, etc., of all nations. 

This manner of spending the winter evenings had an 
important influence on our intellectual and religious char- 
acter. A taste for reading and a desire to gain useful 
knowledge were awakened. 

Our father had set his heart upon training his boys for 
the farm. He was hoping soon to be relieved to a great 
extent from its care by entrusting its management 
mainly to his eldest son. But his plans for the education 
of his children had produced a deeper impression than he 
had anticipated. Such a love of study and such a thirst 
for literary pursuits had been awakened, that my eldest 
brother, who, with my sister older, had just entered upon 
the Christian life, now expressed his wish to commence a 
course of study for the gospel ministry. 

At first this was a great disappointment to father. 
And yet the conversion and usefulness of the children 
was the burden of his daily prayers. Father soon yielded 
his wishes to the indications of Divine Providence, and 
the whole family now became interested in this important 
object before them. Every one was ready to help by 
economy and in every other way practicable to meet the 
expense of carrying this son and brother through college 
and into the sacred office. 

This brother used to say that it was our manner of 
spending winter evenings that led him to seek a public 
education. He often acknowledged with lively emotion 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 47 

his gratitude to his parents for the habit of reading and 
study which they taught him to form in early life ; and 
for the still more valuable habit of relating, in his own 
words, the narratives and thoughts of the various authors 
that were read together in the family. Whenever he 
returned home during vacations he helped to increase 
the interest among his brothers and sisters in reading 
and study, so that all showed an unusual attachment to 
books and a thirst for general knowledge. After a hard 
day's work on the farm, we boys would spend hours in 
reading and study, either alone or in company with each 
other and our sisters. 

The result of our parents' mode of educating their 
children (if I may here anticipate a few years in my 
narrative) was that five of the sons commenced a course 
of education with a view to the ministry, and another 
would have been glad, had the opportunity offered, to 
enter upon the same course ; four completed their col- 
legiate education, three entered the sacred offices, and 
three, other professions. The three daughters received 
the best education the academies of those days afforded, 
and all became wives of professional men — two of them 
clergymen. 

The education of so large a family of course caused a 
hard and long-continued struggle and great expense on 
the part of our parents. But they felt that there was no 
investment they could make for their children that would 
be so valuable and safe as a good education ; and that 
there was no way in which they could receive so rich and 
satisfactory a return for all their labor and care as to see 
their children, through the qualification of a thorough 
intellectual and religious training, occupying places of 
honor and usefulness. 



48 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

I can but hope that this narrative may be helpful to 
many parents who are inquiring anxiously, " How shall 
we order our children ? How shall we do unto them ? " 

Children must have something to employ and interest 
them. Nature teaches that the young must have amuse- 
ment, recreation ; and no wise parent will leave his chil- 
dren to seek their associates and amusements without 
their aid and watchful care. Expense of time and money 
can not be more wisely incurred than by rendering such 
aid and care. 

That the literary and religious tastes and character and 
subsequent lives of so large a family of children, so iso- 
lated from literary, moral, and religious associations and 
influences, should have been so much formed through the 
right employment of winter evenings, is an instructive 
lesson to all parents who would see their children grow- 
ing up to be respected and useful in their day and 
generation. 

Learning to Do Things. 

As I have already intimated, I was brought up on a 
farm, and my father taught his boys to work. And not 
one of us, even those in professional life, has ever 
regretted this early training. 

I had, perhaps, an unusual amount of natural elasticity. 
I was quick in all my movements, and on this account 
was called on more frequently than my brothers to do any 
thing that was to be done quickly — turn the grind-stone, 
go on errands, etc. It was : — 

" Asa, run and get such a thing ; " and though it was 
not exactly meant that I should rwi y yet my swift walk 
was very nearly that. A quick step, to the present day, 
has been my natural gait. In walking the street I seldom 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 



49 



go behind any one, if I can get ahead. This is not 
planned or designed beforehand, but is intuitive. A slow- 
step or a slow act of any kind is to me unnatural, and 
therefore more fatiguing than a quick one. 

My father, when about twelve years of age, went to live 
some years with an uncle who was a blacksmith. His 
special duty for some time was to blow the bellows for 
his uncle. But he was a boy who always kept his eyes 
and ears open to learn all he could about every thing 
around him. In this way he really learned the trade of 
the blacksmith. He learned to do so much in this line 
that after he purchased his farm in Sutton he had a small 
blacksmith shop and also a carpenter's shop built, for his 
own use and that of his boys. He always used to shoe 
his own horses and oxen, making the shoes and nails, 
sharpened his plowshares, mended his chains, and, in short, 
did any thing in that line that needed to be done on a 
farm. He could also make a sled and shoe it, repair carts 
and all other farm implements. All this he would do 
evenings, or on rainy days when he could not work out or 
was not called away on professional duties. Knowing how 
to do these things not only saved him much time, but also 
much expense. 

This habit of my father may have begotten in me my 
interest in the same direction. From my boyhood I had 
a great desire to do every thing I saw any one else do. 
I liked to spend my play-hours with the tools in my 
father's shop, making bows and arrows, sleds, boxes, etc., 
which I learned to make quite neatly. 

In those days each family had their boots and shoes 
made at home. A shoemaker, or a " cobbler," as he was 
then called, came with his bench and tools on his shoulder, 
and spent days, and even weeks, making all the boots and 



5 O INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

shoes for the whole family for a year. Those occasions 
were full of interest to me. I begged the privilege of 
going into the chamber with the shoemaker and learning 
his trade. I very soon learned to peg and sew and make 
myself quite useful in the work. To be sure, there were 
times in after years, during my college vacations, when 
my knowledge and skill in mending old boots and shoes 
were of more use to the family than of recreation to me. 
Still I have never regretted that I came so near being a 
shoemaker. 

I had a great taste for the garden. Raising all kinds of 
vegetables, flowers, shrubbery, etc., was my delight. While 
my brothers and the hired men were resting at noon-time 
in the summer, I would seek my rest among my thriving 
beds of beets and carrots, noting the growth of my 
melons and cucumbers, and enjoying the varied beauties 
and sweet fragrance of my roses and pinks, etc. And this 
interest in horticulture has grown ever since, as every one 
can see who visits my vine-clad home, in the midst of 
choice shrubbery and ever-blooming flowers. 

This knowing how to do things, which I so early learned, 
has been an unfailing source of pleasure, as well as a prac- 
tical benefit, to me all my life. For the forty years I have 
had a home of my own, there has been scarcely a week, or 
even a day, when my knowing how to do things has not 
been of service to me. There is hardly any little repair 
or improvement needed about the house but I can make 
it. And while it is usually a pleasant recreation to lay 
aside my studies for a short time, it is also an important 
matter of economy. 

I am told that a pane of glass or the cord of a window 
has been broken ; there is a hole in the bottom of a tin 
dish or the handle has unsoldered ; the pump, the clock, or 



NOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 



51 



the lock on a door or trunk is out of order ; or a few things 
need painting : all these things I can usually repair and 
put in order, and do it in less time than it would take to 
get the glazier, tinker, pump-maker, or painter to come and 
do it, and at the same time save the dollar or fifty cents 
charged for every little job. A new shelf or bookcase is 
wanted, or a trellis for my clematis, honeysuckle, or grape- 
vines ; I have a work-bench and tools in the barn-chamber, 
and some hour when I need relaxation and exercise the 
work is done. My house needs shingling, or a new room 
is needed ; and, if I can spare a little time from my pro- 
fessional duties, I can turn my skill to account in aiding 
the carpenter ; and thus hundreds and hundreds of dollars 
have been saved to me by having learned to be my own 
mechanic. 

Now, I would like to say to all boys : " Is it not worth 
your while to be learning to do things?" All may not 
have an equal tact or natural genius for turning their 
hand to almost every thing. But every one ought to know 
enough, no matter what his employment in life is to be, if 
called to harness a horse in an emergency, not to harness 
him with his head towards the carriage, or to put on a 
saddle wrong end foremost, or to think he has done a 
smart thing by making a round button for a door, or by put- 
ting in a screw at each end of one that is properly made, 
as some men, with an honorary title at one or both ends 
of their names, have done. 

While I would commend this subject of learning to do 
things to the attention of all boys, I presume the girls 
too may find it greatly to their advantage to be learning 
to do things in their sphere of life. 



5 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

Three Hours in a Corn-field. 

My father purchased his large farm with special refer- 
ence to the training of his boys. He believed the old 
adage, 

"Satan finds some mischief still, 
For idle hands to do." 

While ever ready to make ample provision for all need- 
ful amusements and recreation . for his boys, as I have 
already shown, he believed that our good required that we 
should be trained to habits of industry. And we began 
to form these habits at an early age. When only six or 
eight years old, we were trusted with the responsibility of 
going to mill and on various other errands with the horse 
and wagon. We were known through the county, per- 
haps I may venture to say, as very smart, industrious 
boys. If a father wished to rebuke the idleness of his 
sons, or give them an example of industry, he would refer 
to the boys at Bul]ard Hill. 

Some thought that our father worked his boys too hard ; 
that he begun our training on the farm when we were too 
young. But a healthier, more robust, or happier set of 
youngsters was not to be found in the country. We all 
felt a personal interest in every department of work on 
the farm. We all felt that we had an ownership in it. 
We were ambitious to have the work of each season — 
planting, hoeing, haying, and harvesting — done as early as 
any other farmer in town. Whether father was with us 
or not, we were industrious ; no eye-serving among us. 
We were in full sympathy with our father in every plan 
for improvement ; and he always consulted with us, and 
carefully considered the suggestions any one of us might 
make. 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 



53 



The following incident will illustrate our ambition. 
Father was a practical farmer, and when professional 
duties would permit, he engaged in personal labor with his 
boys, as already stated. 

One lowery afternoon in hay-time there was a good 
half-day's work for three men to be done in hoeing a 
field of corn. Father took three of us boys, the eldest 
about seventeen years of age, to do this work. He told 
us he would plow this field and then go to another, 
leaving us to spend the afternoon in hoeing it. This was 
before the introduction of the cultivator. Two furrows 
were plowed between the rows, one turning the earth 
towards one row, and the other towards the other row. 

As father began the first furrow, one of us, without any 
preconcerted arrangement, began to hoe ; a second boy 
went a third way through the field and began to hoe ; 
and the other boy began at the other end as father com- 
menced the second furrow. By the time the two furrows 
were plowed, the row was hoed. Then we commenced 
on the next in the same way, and with the same result. 
At this, father began to quicken the speed of the horse, 
and we, becoming a little excited, quickened our speed 
also. 

Father's motto was, " that what was worth doing was 
worth well-doing ; " no halfway work on his farm. So 
he several times said : " Boys, you are not slighting your 
work, are you ?" 

And several times he stopped to see; and finding the 
work satisfactory, hastened back and urged on his horse, 
to keep out of the way of these now thoroughly aroused 
and ambitious young farmers. 

The result of this trial on the " race-course " of hoeing 
was that the work of half a day for three men was com- 



5 4 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

pleted in three hours by three boys, and we left the field 
in triumph with our father ! 

This feat became known and was the subject of fre- 
quent conversation among the farmers all through the 
neighborhood. And father felt that the stock he held in 
his boys had suddenly gone up several per cent. ! He 
often described that exciting time in the corn-field with 
great pride and satisfaction. 

Not one of us boys, though six of us entered profes- 
sional life, ever regretted his early agricultural training. 
We were protected from the evil influences of idleness, 
and we all obtained a knowledge of " doing things," which 
has ever been of great service to us. And not one of us 
but has often recalled, with no small interest, the feat of 
those three hours in the corn-field. 

Bullard Hill Farm. 

Some little description of the farm at Bullard Hill, 
the mode of carrying it on, and a few other incidents 
connected with it may be of interest. 

As this farm was purchased, as already stated, with 
special reference to the training of his boys, father 
arranged and directed every thing connected with it to 
this end. Every field, for tillage or pasture, had its par- 
ticular name ; and no resident in a city could be more 
familiar with the names of the streets in his neighborhood 
than each member of this family was with the location 
and name of every lot and pasture, orchard and garden, on 
the farm. There was the Long lot, the Sap-tree lot, the 
Cider-mill lot, the Blacksnake Den lot, the Spring pasture, 
the Oak-tree pasture, the Pennyroyal pasture, the Oven 
orchard, etc. Every rod of this farm showed the effect of 
wise and skillful husbandry. 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 55 

We young farmers were taught that there must be no 
marks of slothfulness. Weeds and bushes were not 
permitted to get the upper hand. There were no 
unsightly nooks and corners. A proper care of the 
buildings and tools was taught. No leaving plows and 
carts and other farming utensils lying about the yard or 
field, to rust in the storm and burn in the sun. A taste 
for neatness and order was cultivated. Every thing must 
have its place, and when not in use, must be in its place. If 
a sprig of white-weed, or oxeye, as it was called, — which 
was the most dreaded pest of the farm, — was found, it 
was carefully taken up, the roots placed on the wall with 
a stone upon them, and the heads cast into the fire. 

Father had various plans to collect and prepare large 
quantities of good dressing for his fields. He gathered 
muck from the meadow and the rich washings that accu- 
mulated by the road-side. He replaced old walls with 
bank walls, so as to get the loam under them for his barn- 
yard and compost heap, and at the same time improve the 
appearance of the farm. We boys all entered into the 
plan of saving every thing that would help to enrich the 
fields and make them more productive. 

We were encouraged by obtaining the best farming- 
tools that were to be had, and raising the best stock ; 
and father would have been glad to have only the best 
help when obliged to have any. But many of the families 
in which he practiced were poor, and he had to take his 
pay in work, poor though that might be, or receive no 
compensation at all. He used to say there were three 
classes of the poor for whom he doctored — " the Lord's 
poor, the devil's poor, and poor devils." He was will- 
ing to help the Lord's poor, even though there was no 
prospect of pay. But when he came to the other two 



5 6 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

classes, and especially the poor devils, who would be sure 
to send for him on the most stormy nights and then never 
pay if they could avoid it, he thought that was a pretty 
hard case. 

It is a great privilege to be brought up on such a farm, 
and by such a practical farmer. No matter what the pro- 
fession of one is to be in after life, the influence of an 
early agricultural training can not but be beneficial. 

With this large family of ten children to feed and 
clothe and educate — four or five of them to receive a 
public education — ■ it cost a long and very earnest 
struggle to remove the heavy debt with which this fine 
farm was encumbered. Every child was interested in 
securing that end. But that debt was really a powerful 
and most beneficent educator in that family. It taught 
invaluable lessons of frugality, economy, and industry, 
which have never been forgotten. It inspired every one 
to personal and vigorous effort to have our home free from 
all encumbrance. And that was a memorable and most 
joyous day when that long-sought-for object was accom- 
plished. The very thought of a home unincumbered 
with debt one would suppose would lead every farmer 
and every member of his family to the most earnest and 
persevering effort to secure such a boon. 

A Present to our Minister. 

A generation or two ago it was common in most 
parishes for the people from time to time to make little 
presents to their minister. Not only on thanksgiving 
occasions, but almost every week some one would carry 
something that would be useful in housekeeping to the 
parsonage. It was not because the salary was small, — 
though it was in most cases small compared with salaries 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 57 

generally at the present day, — but it was an expression 
of interest in the minister and his work. 

This practice, which was most happy in its influence 
alike upon the giver and the receiver, and which often- 
times greatly cheered the heart of the pastor as a token 
of confidence and affection, is not so common at the 
present day. The railroads bring every one so near the 
market that every thing he can raise is just as good to 
him as so much money ; and it is a different thing to 
give the minister a present now and then in money from 
what it used to be to give a bushel of apples or potatoes, 
a loin of veal, a few dozen of eggs, or a few pounds of 
butter or cheese. And so these love-tokens to the pastor 
are comparatively few in our times. 

Once a year, at least, a special present went from our 
farm to the parsonage. My father was famous for getting 
up a splendid load of wood, whether intended for a present 
or for market. Instead of arranging the crooked sticks 
so as to make the largest bulk possible out of the smallest 
quantity of wood, he either rejected the crooked sticks or 
made "the crooked straight" by cutting, and then pack- 
ing so closely that a squirrel could scarcely make its way 
through it. 

At the proper season he put long stakes into the sled 
and made up a load of a cord and a half or two cords of 
well-seasoned hard wood that was fit to be photographed. 
On top of this load was placed a bag of apples from our fine 
large orchard, a cheese, and a few pounds of butter from 
mother's well-filled dairy-room, and perhaps a loin of veal 
or a spare-rib of pork. Then two of us boys, when not 
more than twelve or fifteen years of age, with a team of 
two or three yoke of oxen and a horse, would take this 
present, upon which our whole family had bestowed our 



58 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

blessings, to the minister. And did ever two boys feel 
quite so smart as did these young teamsters on such an 
errand ? 

As that splendid load of wood went on its way through 
the town every body knew where it was going, and we 
too knew they did. 

On arriving at the parsonage the venerable and vene- 
rated minister, the late Rev. Edmund Mills, uncle of 
Samuel J. Mills, the early missionary (and ah, how plainly 
I can now see his tall, majestic, and gentlemanly form !), 
and his family came out, with their hearty thanks and 
"God bless you." The minister helped unload the wood, 
and we shrewdly managed to give him, when we could, 
the big ends of the sticks, that we might see the minister 
lift. 

Was n't it a scene never to be forgotten by us ? And 
did n't we and all the family who were at church hear our 
minister preach the next Sabbath ? Did he ever preach 
half so well, and did we ever listen with half so much 
interest before ? That load of wood as a present did the 
givers ever so much more good than it did the recipients. 
We all found that it was, indeed, "more blessed to give 
than to receive." 

Every one is always interested where he invests prop- 
erty. This is a well-known principle in life. Hence the 
little boy ran with so much eagerness to the missionary 
meeting because, as he said : " I have an interest in that 
concern, for I have given a shilling to it." 

Why do not parents more generally think of the inter- 
est these little attentions to the minister will awaken in 
their children and in themselves toward him and his 
instructions ? Let the children have a part in these little 
offerings. Such presents from the people — though to- 



HOW WE CHILDREN WERE TRAINED. 59 

gather they are important helps to the minister in his 
family — are chiefly valuable as tokens of confidence and 
interest in him and his work among them. And it would 
be well could this old custom be revived. 



CHAPTER V. 



MY RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES. 



I ENJOYED the instruction of pious parents and, 
from the age of twelve, of the Sabbath-school. Like 
most children religiously educated, I often had serious 
thoughts of God and the judgment, of heaven and 
hell. 

When I was about sixteen my eldest sister was hope- 
fully converted. For several weeks after this my mind 
was tender and my thoughts serious. In a few months 
my elder brother, then absent, became interested in 
religion. News of this revived and greatly deepened all 
my anxious thoughts. I now began to see the evil of sin. 
I often repaired to the barn and, throwing myself on 
the hay, poured out my bitter tears and cries unto God. 
The Holy Spirit was evidently whispering to my heart. 
Oh, that I had cherished that whisper as I would have 
cherished the last whisper of a dying friend ! 

I saw an awful division in the family. The parents and 
the elder brother and sister were on the side of God and 
bound to heaven ; the younger members, of whom I was 
the eldest were on the side of Satan and bound to the 
world of woe. One day I took my five younger brothers 
and sisters to my chamber. I shut the door, and there, 
amid sobs and tears that almost choked mv utterance, 
unburdened my heart and told them that I was leading 
them down to the world of woe. This was a melting 
scene. The power of sympthy was so great that we all 
wept together. 

60 



M Y RELIGIO US EXPERIENCES. 6 I 

Soon after this our indulgent father gave his sons a 
holiday. I resolved to spend that day in my chamber 
alone, seeking after God. Oh, how little, on that bright 
morning, did I think what a midnight of darkness I would 
soon bring over my own soul ! I finished my few morning 
duties at the barn "and was on my way to my chamber. 
The scalding tears were flowing from my eyes. As I 
passed near the shop I heard the merry voices of my 
brothers engaged in their sports. I hesitated. Con- 
science told me to go straight to my chamber. The 
tempter said : " Just see what the boys are doing and 
then go to your chamber." 

I yielded to the tempter's suggestion and went to the 
shop. My brothers were making bows and arrows. I 
stood a moment and was just turning to leave when 
my eye caught a fine stick for a bow. I said to myself : " I 
will just shave out a bow, and then I will go to my 
chamber." 

Oh, how conscience plunged her sting deep into my heart 
as I seated myself with the stick and the shave ! For a 
moment I was ready to cry out with pain. Yet amid all 
this anguish of spirit I went on and finished a beautiful 
bow. Now I would go to my chamber. I hesitated. I 
wanted to see how it would look when strung. I knew it 
would be trifling with the voice of conscience and the 
Spirit to tarry another moment, but again I yielded to the 
tempter and strung my bow. After writhing under another 
sting from conscience, and trembling as it thundered in my 
ear, I seated myself to make an arrow, which should cer- 
tainly be the last act of resistance to the Spirit and to 
conscience. Oh, how little did I yet know the power of 
temptation or of my own weakness ! 

My bow and arrow were now completed. I had thrice 



6 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

yielded to the voice of the tempter, stifled conscience, and 
hushed the strivings of the Spirit. With even less resist- 
ance than before I yielded again and accompanied my 
brothers to the field in search of game. I would only 
shoot once, and then return. But the tempter con- 
tinued to urge once more, and once more, till a whole 
hour had passed away ! Conscience again raised her 
voice to a note of thunder, and cried : " Ruined youth ! 
what are you doing ? " 

It roused me to see my guilt and folly, and I hastened 
to the house. I took my Bible and hymn-book and 
entered my chamber. Alas ! the insulted Spirit had 
departed. I tried to weep, but no tears came to my relief. 
I tried to recall my morning feelings, but there was no 
tenderness in my heart. No one can describe the anguish 
of soul I then felt, as I exclaimed : — 

" It is too late ; the Spirit is grieved away, and I 
am lost ! Oh, that I had avoided that shop and not 
passed by it, but had turned from it and passed away ! " 

The amusements in which we were engaged were 
not sinful in themselves, but they became sinful to me on 
account of my peculiar circumstances. I had resolved to 
spend the day in retirement, seeking after God. The 
Holy Spirit no doubt prompted me to make this resolu- 
tion, and for me to turn aside to engage in amusements, 
however innocent they may have been in themselves, was 
now, under these circumstances, trifling with my heav- 
enly Friend, and trifling with the voice of conscience. 
And my guilt consisted in my trifling with the Spirit, and 
not in the mere fact that I was engaged in recreation. 

The Spirit Departed. 

Every day increased the evidence that I had grieved 
away the Spirit of God. The Spirit had indeed departed. 



MY RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES. 63 

My anxious thoughts by no means ceased at once. For 
a long time I was a very unhappy youth. Thoughts of 
what I might have been had I not squandered my time in 
amusement and trifled with the voice of conscience and 
the Spirit when they urged me to my chamber, often filled 
my soul with great bitterness. Yet there was none of 
that softening and melting of heart that I felt previous to 
the Spirit's departure. By degrees, however, all these 
anxious feelings and thoughts wore away and left me 
almost entirely careless. 

Immediately after the conversion of my elder brother 
and sister, they began to spend a season together, after 
family worship, on Sabbath evenings, in religious conver- 
sation and united prayer. As soon as I began to mani- 
fest seriousness, I was invited to accompany them on 
these seasons to the little chamber. Shall I ever forget 
those seasons ? Shall I ever forget the pleadings of that 
brother and sister with me, and their intercessions and 
strong cryings on my behalf? Especially shall I ever 
forget the earnestness and almost agony with which, after 
they saw evidence that I was grieving away the Spirit, 
they urged their entreaties and offered their prayers ? 

By degrees these seasons became irksome to me ; the 
warnings and expostulations of my brother and sister 
became unwelcome ; and I began to dread the approach of 
Sabbath evening. 

At length, one evening, I contrived to retire to bed so 
as to prevent an invitation to the little chamber. Oh, 
how that wounded the hearts of that anxious brother and 
sister ! With what impassioned eloquence and bitter 
tears did they meet me the next day, and plead with me 
not to forsake their little meetings. But it was all in vain ; 
I was unmoved. I met with them no more. 



64 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

I loved my sister. Nothing gave me greater pleasure 
than to accompany her on a ride or walk. This she 
understood ; and after I had abandoned the little meet- 
ings, and seemed fast relapsing into stupidity, many and 
many were the ways she devised to make an occasion for 
a ride or a walk, that she might give vent to the irrepres- 
sible yearnings of her heart for my salvation. No one 
who has not, under similar circumstances, witnessed the 
gushings forth of strong feelings from a pious sister's 
heart can appreciate a description of those seasons. 
Although the anxious entreaties of that sister, one would 
think, were enough to break and melt a heart of ice, yet 
my heart had become so hard and so cold that it could 
resist them all. 

Those personal appeals and entreaties became so unwel- 
come and repulsive that I began to dread and even avoid 
meeting my sister alone. The strong fraternal love that 
so recently glowed in my bosom began to grow cold ; yea, 
more, strange as it may appear, unkindness and even 
hatred began to take its place ! I seemed to repel every 
effort for my good with the angry words, " Let me alone ! " 

In such a state was I when the Spirit was departed I 
I would say to every awakened child or man : " Beware 
how you trifle with the strivings of the Spirit of God. 
That Spirit may be grieved away, and all joy and peace, 
and even natural affection, may depart from your bosom, 
and you may be left a restless, discontented, and wretched 
being — a prey to all the vile passions of the soul. 
Listen, oh, listen now, for your life, to the inviting* 
melting whispers of that heavenly Spirit." 

"Say, sinner, hath a voice within 
Oft whispered to thy secret soul, 
Urged thee to leave the ways of sin, 
And yield thy heart to God's control? 



MY RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES. 65 

God's Spirit will not always strive 
With hardened, self-destroying man; 

Ye who persist his love to grieve, 
May never hear his voice again. 

Sinner, perhaps this very day, 

Thy last accepted time may be ; 
Oh, shouldst thou grieve him now away, 

Then hope may never smile on thee." 

The Spirit Returned. 

During a part of the winter following I attended a 
public school in Whitinsville, which is in the town of 
Northbridge, my birthplace. The school that winter was 
taught by my elder brother. That neighborhood, the 
autumn preceding, had been the scene of an extensive re- 
vival of religion, and great numbers had been hopefully 
converted. Many youth, between the ages of nine and 
fifteen, had shared in this work of grace, and had publicly 
professed their love for the Saviour. Four of these were 
brothers and sisters from one family. 

Never was there a more delightful scene than the 
school presented that winter. Religion had diffused its 
softening, hallowed influence among many of its members. 
The most entire order and harmony prevailed. When the 
Scriptures were read, it was as if we heard the voice of 
the Almighty. Oh, what a solemnity reigned in that little 
sanctuary, for it seemed like "none other than the house 
of God and the gate of heaven," when the teacher offered 
the morning and evening prayer ! And what a spectacle 
did that place often present during the intermission sea- 
sons ! It was not the scene of loud and boisterous mirth 
usually witnessed in such places. Oh, no ! There was 
seen a lovely band ; and there, in sweetest harmony, were 



66 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

heard their youthful songs of praise and the voice of 
prayer. 

Such were the scenes into which I was introduced. 
Could I be happy there ? How uncongenial to my state 
of mind was every thing around me — the countenances 
and conversation of many of my school-mates, yea, and 
almost the very atmosphere by which I was surrounded. 
Every thing constantly reminded me of the little chamber 
and of those little meetings where I often listened to a 
brother's and a sister's earnest intercessions for my salva- 
tion. And for a few weeks I was wretched. I was angry 
with myself and with every body and every thing around 
me. 

After a few weeks I began, almost unconsciously, to 
contrast myself — a restless, unhappy, and wretched youth 
— with my pious school-mates. The calmness, peace of 
mind, and ineffable happiness, and that tender love for 
each other which they seemed to possess, I knew were the 
fruits of their religion. I knew — for I have before said 
that I enjoyed the instructions of Christian parents — 
that only by repentance towards God and faith in the 
Saviour could I be made to feel and enjoy what they felt 
and enjoyed. I knew, too, that without the influences of 
the Holy Spirit I could never exercise repentance and 
faith. 

I then recalled those days when the Spirit, in a voice so 
tender and persuasive, urged me to repent and believe on 
the Saviour. I remembered how I trifled with that kind 
voice, and in an evil hour, when, perhaps, my foot was 
almost on the threshold of salvation, I yielded to the en- 
ticing voice of the tempter ; and oh, how did the sin of 
grieving the blessed Spirit, now like a mountain weight, 
press down my soul into the very dust ! The struggle was 



M Y RELIGIO US EXPERIENCES. 6 7 

long and dreadful. At times despair seemed my only 
portion. 

The sympathy and prayers of all the pious youth of the 
school and of Christians in the neighborhood were enlisted 
in my behalf. With what earnestness did these young dis- 
ciples, as they took me by the arm, repeat to me the precious 
promises of the Bible, and entreat me to cast myself upon 
the Saviour of the chief of sinners. How often, during 
the hours of school, did they exhibit the deep anxiety they 
felt for my salvation, by their kind notes, literally wet with 
their tears. But all this was in vain. The thought that I 
had grieved the Spirit seemed to shut out from my mind 
every ray of hope. I exclaimed : " There can be no salva- 
tion for me. I have grieved the Spirit, and he will never, 
never return ! " 

But the Spirit had already returned and was doing his 
heavenly work. The promise, " Him that cometh to me 
I will in no wise cast out," broke in upon the cloud of 
midnight darkness that hung over my mind. I saw that 
the blood of Christ could wash out the deepest stains of 
sin. 

At length, to the great joy of my pious associates, I was 
led to hope in the pardoning mercy of God. 

Boys Missionary Society. 

Among some of my early religious experiences was a 
feeling of sympathy for the darkened heathen, who had 
never heard the good news of salvation — had never 
heard the dear name of Jesus. At that time the work of 
sending missionaries with the gospel to the heathen world 
was comparatively new. The American Board of Mis- 
sions had been formed only a few years, and a missionary 
society among the young was hardly known. The more I 



68 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

thought about the heathen, the more anxious I felt to do 
something to aid in this missionary work. 

The church where I attended meeting was more than 
three miles from my home. My young associates were 
mostly in the neighborhood of the church. Several of 
them had become interested in religion, and, like myself, 
had publicly professed their love to the Saviour. 

Among my plans to aid in sending the gospel to the 
heathen, was to form a "Boys' Missionary Society." I 
talked with my young friends about it. I drew up a sort 
of constitution, in which it was stated that any boy could 
become a member by the annual payment of fifty cents. 

After getting my plan well-nigh perfected, and getting 
the approval of a number of boys, I told my father what I 
wanted to do. The fervent petitions of my father every 
day at the family altar that the gospel might be sent to 
the poor heathen had been a great means of awakening 
and constantly increasing my interest in this subject. 
Somehow, and most unexpectedly to me, my father did not 
seem to approve of my plan. He doubted about my giv- 
ing fifty cents in this way. That was quite a sum for me 
to promise every year. 

I was greatly disappointed. I also felt mortified that I 
must be the first to fail in carrying out the plan I had 
myself proposed. 

May election — the great holiday, at that time, in Mas- 
sachusetts — was near at hand. My father was to be 
absent for several days, but he had told me I might hire a 
neighbor's horse and spend election with some cousins 
who lived ten miles distant. 

After my father had left home, my mother, who had 
learned of my disappointment, had one of those ever-to- 
be-remembered Christian, motherly talks with me. She 



MY RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES. 69 

told me if I was willing to forego my visit to my cousins', 
I might have the money it would cost to join the Boys' 
Missionary Society. She knew my father would not 
object. 

This was most joyful news, and I was ready cheerfully 
to make the sacrifice. My mother also told me I might, 
if I wished, go into town and spend election with my 
young friends. 

Had not the unexpected arrival, election morning, of 
several other cousins pleasantly detained me at home, I 
would have been with a company of fifteen of my young 
friends in town, who spent a part of the day together. 
Among other amusements in which this company engaged, 
they had a row in two boats upon a large pond in the 
neighborhood. They went upon a beautiful island and 
had a pleasant picnic. On their return, all joyful and 
happy in their songs, the boat, containing eight young 
men and maidens, was suddenly upset, and four interest- 
ing misses, two of them sisters, found a watery grave ! 
What a pall of gloom and grief this sad event cast over 
the whole town ! Thousands were present when all four 
of those lovely forms were laid in the same grave ! 

With what solemnity and gratitude did I think of the 
mysterious providence that prevented me that day from 
being, as I expected to be, with that party, and perhaps 
being a victim of that melancholy disaster. It led me to 
a new consecration of myself to the Saviour, and inspired 
me with new zeal in my missionary interest. 

The Boys' Missionary Society was soon after formed 
with a goodly membership. This society — one of the 
earlier juvenile missionary associations of the day — con- 
tinued its good work for several years, till I left my home 
to fit myself for what has been my life-work in the gospel 



JO INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE, 

ministry. My interest in missions increased till, for 
several years while pursuing my studies, my heart was 
set on Africa as the field of my future labors. But God 
in his wisdom assigned me a different but most delightful 
field for a life-work among the young in our own land. 
And in no phase of this work have I ever felt a deeper 
interest — next to that of the conversion of the young — 
than in enlisting them early in the cause of Christian 
benevolence, in earning and saving the means of helping 
to send the good news of salvation throughout the world. 

The Dark Closet. 

After I became interested in religion, in seeking a 
place for retirement for my secret devotions, I thought of 
a large closet out of the spare chamber. That closet 
was the place where my mother kept her blankets, com- 
forters, and various kinds of bed-clothes. It was large, 
and without a window. When the door was shut it was 
total darkness ; no eye but that of Him who " seeth in 
secret " could behold any one who there sought retire- 
ment from the world. 

In that closet I erected my altar for secret prayer. It 
was my Bethel ; and none but God can ever know the 
Bethel seasons I there enjoyed in communing with the 
Saviour in that time of my first love, and until I left 
my home to prepare for the work of the gospel ministry. 

In one of my visits to my dear old home years after 
I had left it, as I was "company," I occupied at night the 
spare chamber. In the morning I had a desire to visit 
the dark closet and see how it would seem to shut the 
door and pray to my Father which is in secret as I was 
wont to do in my young days. I opened the door, and 
what a scene greeted my eyes ! There in the center of 



MY RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES. J\ 

the closet stood a chair, and before that chair there was 
a cushion in which there were deep prints, where some 
one, evidently, was accustomed to kneel in secret worship. 
And who could it be ? Who but my own blessed mother, 
who had prayed all her ten children into the kingdom ? 
What a hallowed spot did it seem to me ! A thrill of 
sacred awe came over me, and a voice almost seemed to 
say, as it did to Moses at the burning bush : " Put off thy 
shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou 
standest is holy ground." 

We gaze with interest upon the desk at which a distin- 
guished author composed his works of world-wide fame, 
at the studio of a great artist, at the chair where sat a 
renowned statesman or hero ; but what are all these to 
the prints in that cushion, where knelt that dear "mother 
in Israel " in her communings with the Saviour, and 
where she "had power with God," as she wrestled with 
the angel in prayer for her children and for the upbuild- 
ing of the Redeemer's kingdom ! 



CHAPTER VI. 

MY LAST WINTER IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOL. 

A FEW rods north-east from the village referred to in 
Chapter III, and near a burial ground, or, as an 
Irishman put it, " convanient to the grave-yard," with its 
white grave-stones and long rows of tombs, stood our red 
district school-house. During the winter months, from 
seventy-five to one hundred scholars, from the village and 
the farm-houses for a mile around, thither resorted for in- 
struction. Although the Bible was daily read in school, 
yet no master ever accompanied it with the voice of 
prayer, or ever taught his pupils that " the fear of the 
Lord is the beginning of wisdom." 

During the intermission at noon, a large part of the 
misses who remained, and sometimes of the lads also, were 
occupied in practicing the lessons they received at an even- 
ing school for the education of the feet instead of the head. 
This kind of education was very popular with some, and 
they made much better progress in it than they did in the 
education of their minds. Whether they found it in 
subsequent life more serviceable to them as farmers, 
mechanics, housewives, etc., I am not able to say. 

In the summer of my seventeenth year I became per- 
sonally interested in the subject of religion, and made a 
public profession of that interest by uniting with the 
church. My older brother and sister and myself were the 
only young persons in that part of the town who had made 
such a profession. 

72 



MY LAST WINTER IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOL. 73 

Our " joining the church" was a subject of much con- 
versation, wonder, and even ridicule among all classes in 
the neighborhood. Much that was very trying to our 
feelings we were obliged to hear and witness. 

The villagers, old and young, to amuse themselves and 
to ridicule religion, invented a story that our parents had 
"hired their children to join the church " ; and with this 
story they would often taunt us. But instead of exciting 
our anger, as they wished to do, the influence of such ridi- 
cule was to drive us more frequently to our closet, where 
we obtained grace to endure it all with a meek, uncom- 
plaining, and forgiving spirit. And we often counted it 
all joy that we fell into these diverse trials of our faith, 
which, I trust, worked in us patience. 

The time was now approaching for the commencement 
of the public winter school. This was to be my last 
season at that school. And no one who has not been 
similarly situated can understand the deep and painful 
solicitude with which I looked forward to my attendance. 

I was probably the first professedly pious youth that 
had ever entered that school-house ! And there I was to 
be brought into close intercourse with nearly one hundred 
children and youth, most of whom had been educated to 
sneer at religion and every thing serious. What a place 
for a Christian youth to stand up alone ! I must become 
a spectacle to the whole school — a mark at which every 
one would aim the arrows of ridicule. All this I foresaw ; 
and many were my seasons of earnest prayer for strength 
equal to my day, and grace that should be sufficient for 
me ; and also that I might, by my consistent conduct, my 
meekness and patience under opposition and ridicule, 
constrain some to glorify my heavenly Father. To my 
excellent Christian mother, too, I often resorted, to 



7 4 INCIDENTS IN A .BUSY LIFE. 

unbosom my anxieties and to seek her sympathy, coun- 
sels, and prayers. 

At length the day for the school to commence arrived. 
With a mother's blessing and, as I felt, a Saviour's smile, 
I went, cast down, yet rejoicing, to the place where I 
expected trials awaited me. And my expectations were 
indeed realized ; but the Lord was on my side and I was 
not moved. At night my heart was full, of joy on account 
of the grace that enabled me to pray for my opposers : 
" Father, forgive them ; for they know not what they 
do.' , 

" Father," said Charles Willard, one of my class-mates, 
one day just before the commencement of the winter 
school — " father, Asa Bullard is going to school this 
winter." 

" Well, my son, what of it ? " 

" Why, you know he has joined the church, and I 
mean to do all I can to vex him." 

" Oh, no, Charles ! I would n't go to troubling him, if 
he lets you alone," replied Mr. Willard, who, though not 
then a professor, was a respecter of religion. 

" Well," said Charles, " I mean to watch him, and he 's 
got to walk pretty straight, or I shall appear against him." 

In all this Charles was as good as his word. Many 
were his endeavors, by unkind words, actions, and looks, to 
tease and, if possible, to irritate his class-mate. Nothing 
would have delighted him more than to see me out of 
temper. 

" There ! " he would have tauntingly said, " there 's 
your Christian, getting angry ! " 

He well understood, as the ungodly generally do, just 
how Christians ought to act. He knew that the indul- 
gence of such a temper, even under ridicule and unpro- 



MY LAST WINTER IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOL. 75 

voked insult, is inconsistent with the meek, forgiving 
spirit of the gospel. 

At one time Charles would send me a note, in school 
time, addressing me as "parson " or " deacon," or in some 
way deriding me about my " religion." At another time, 
by means of some grimace or gesture, or ludicrous draw- 
ing, he would excite among the scholars near him a smile 
of derision at my expense. All this, however, I seemed 
to have grace to bear with a Christian temper. When 
reviled, like my divine Master, I " reviled not again," but 
bore it meekly. Now and then a tear of grief and pity 
would appear in my eyes, but no flush of passion was seen 
upon my cheek. 

Supposing there was no hope of doing my school-mates 
any spiritual good by direct efforts till I had in a measure 
softened their prejudices by the influence of a silent 
example, I carefully avoided all intercourse with them. 
I never mingled with them at recess or intermission, so 
that they seldom had the opportunity, except for a few 
moments as the school closed at noon and at night, openly 
to assail me with their ridicule. 

One day, in a neighborhood about a mile from the 
village, there was held an afternoon and evening religious 
meeting. Among the attendants was a young cousin of 
Charles Willard, who was brought up with him as a 
sister. During the recess I had a conversation with her 
on the subject of religion, and found that she was anxious 
about her salvation. 

" I wish," she said, as we were about to close our 
interview, " I wish you would talk with Cousin Charles." 

"Talk with Charles!" I said to myself. " Oh, how he 
would scoff and deride ! It would be casting pearls before 
swine!" And I then informed her of the manner in 



7 6 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

which her cousin had been treating me. She was greatly- 
surprised and grieved to hear this, but said : — 

"Well, I think he has for a few days seemed to be 
serious, and I wish you would converse with him." 

How my heart throbbed with joy at the very thought 
that such a thing could be true ! In reflecting a moment 
I remembered that the conduct of Charles towards me 
had, for several days, been changed. He had made no 
attempts to ridicule or in any way to molest me. 

" I now recollect," I said, " that several times of late 
Charles has seemed to be trying to get near me ; but, 
supposing it was for no good purpose, I have avoided 
him. Charles Willard serious ! " I exclaimed with emo- 
tion. u Oh, I hope it is so ! I will surely seek an inter- 
view with him at the earliest opportunity." 

What a subject was this for me that night to carry to 
my closet ! Earnest were my petitions that God would 
give me one friend in school who would sympathize and 
rejoice with me in all I was called to suffer for Christ and 
his cause. 

The next morning I sought divine guidance, and anew 
commended my class-mates to the mercy of God. During 
the forenoon session Charles appeared sedate and thought- 
ful. With deep and anxious emotions did I observe him, 
and many were the silent prayers I offered in his behalf. 
Several times I caught his eye and exchanged kind looks ; 
and these looks, so unlike those of the scorn and con- 
tempt that I had been accustomed to receive, went to my 
very heart. Already I had forgiven all his unkindness 
and I longed to meet him as a friend. 

As the school closed at noon Charles immediately 
began to make his way among the scholars towards the 
one he had so often and unkindly injured. Unobserved 



MY LAST WINTER IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOL. J J 

by others, we met and took each other cordially by the 
hand. 

" Charles," I asked affectionately, " would n't you like 
to take a walk ? " And together we left the noisy, thought- 
less throng, and directed our way to the calm, quiet re- 
treat of a beautiful grove near by. For a few moments 
we walked on in silence. At length, encouraged by the 
whole appearance of my friend, I broke the silence by 
the inquiry : — 

" Charles, I want to ask how you feel in regard to the 
subject of religion ? " 

The inquiry was answered by a burst of emotion and a 
flood of tears ! We entered the grove and seated our- 
selves under a large oak, and there, leaning upon each 
other, we wept together. After our emotions became a 
little calmed, Charles made a full and most heart-felt dis- 
closure of his feelings. He mentioned his conversation 
with his father before the school commenced, and con- 
fessed all the unkind efforts he had been making to tease 
and vex his friend ; and he earnestly sought forgiveness. 
This was most cheerfully granted, and again our emotions 
found relief in tears. 

" For some time," said Charles, " I have been very 
unhappy, although I have continued my opposition to you. 
O Asa, the patience and meekness with which you have 
received all my unkind treatment often touched my heart, 
and sometimes almost caused me to sink. Many a time 
have I longed to feel as you seemed to feel, and to enjoy 
the peace of mind and happiness that you appeared to 
enjoy. Oh, pray for me, that I may be forgiven and be 
happy with you." 

After a full and free interchange of feelings, together 
we knelt under that majestic oak, and I poured out my 



7 8 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

soul in tears and strong cryings in behalf of my once 
thoughtless and ridiculing, but now broken-hearted, class- 
mate. 

For several days Charles was borne down under very 
deep convictions of sin, and I was as deeply burdened with 
anxiety on his account. I knew by the most painful per- 
sonal experience that the Holy Spirit, now so evidently 
striving with my friend, might be easily grieved away, and 
my friend be left to renew, with sevenfold violence, all his 
opposition and ridicule. 

We often repaired together to the grove, there to con- 
verse on heavenly themes and seek for pardoning mercy. 
With all the solicitude that pious parents feel for an 
anxious child, did I labor to point out the way of eternal 
life, and exhort and entreat my friend to believe on the 
Lord Jesus Christ that he might be saved. Many were 
the letters, full of exhortation and warning, all breathing 
the most heart-felt interest and lively concern for his 
spiritual welfare, that I daily wrote him. 

At length, while seeking God in our favorite resort in 
the grove, prayer was heard, and light and peace broke in 
upon the mind of Charles, and joy and gladness filled my 
heart. The new song of praise for pardoning love was put 
into the lips of the one, and of thanksgiving for the gift 
of a companion of his joys and sorrows, into those of the 
other. My raptures were not unlike those of the lone 
traveler, when, " a stranger in a strange land," surrounded 
by those whose language he knows not and with whom he 
feels connected by no tie of interest or sympathy, he 
suddenly meets one from his native country, with interests, 
sympathies, and associations common with himself. Who 
that has not been a solitary Christian youth in such a 
school, and seen, in connection with his own labors, a 



MY LAST WINTER LN THE PUBLIC SCHOOL. Jg 

class-mate converted from a persecuting Saul into a meek 
and praying Paul, can rightly estimate the happiness and 
joy that I now experienced ? Strong and endearing, and 
daily increasing, was the brotherly attachment that now 
existed between us. Our friendship was like that of 
David and Jonathan. 

George Smith, another of my class-mates, had partici- 
pated with Charles in much of his opposition to me. 
He had marked Charles' change of conduct. He often 
narrowly observed him when the cloud of sorrow was on 
his countenance and the burden of sin was upon his 
soul. He saw the change when the cloud passed away 
and the sunshine of peace and joy appeared. He gazed 
and admired, while in his heart he hated the change. He 
witnessed the growing attachment between his two class- 
mates and their apparent happiness. 

Charles, only a little while before wondering how I 
could so patiently and meekly bear all his ridicule, was 
now bearing ridicule with the same meekness and patience 
himself. This was indeed marvelous to George. The 
more he thought of it, and the more he observed the 
conduct of us two friends, the more his wonder increased. 
All was a perfect mystery. 

" There must be something," no doubt he often 
thought within himself, " in this religion to which I am a 
stranger." 

As he pondered this subject he wished he understood more 
about it and about the secret of our apparent enjoyment. 
The Spirit of God, though he knew it not, was awakening in 
his mind these thoughts and desires and leading him by 
a way he knew not. A slight shade of thoughtfulness 
and anxiety began to appear in his countenance. This 
was quickly seen by me and communicated to my new 



80 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

friend ; and it became a matter of anxious joy, consulta- 
tion, and prayer. Erelong these three classmates were 
on their way to that Bethel-spot in the beautiful grove. 
For awhile pride and shame prevented George from ac- 
knowledging any special interest in the subject of religion ; 
but at length the sigh and the unbidden tear revealed 
what in words he was unwilling to admit. 

For several days we continued to spend a season 
together in the grove. Every possible effort was made to 
lead George to the Saviour. His convictions became deep 
and his distress almost overpowering. Never will his two 
friends forget how his agonizing inquiry, " What shall I 
do ? Oh, what shall I do ? " went to their hearts, and 
with what importunity they pleaded with God in his 
behalf. 

His anxiety continued from day to day unabated. He 
seemed to feel that he was a lost and ruined sinner ; but 
with all the instructions we could give him, our explana- 
tions of the way to the Saviour, of repentance and faith, 
and all our earnest exhortations and prayers, there he 
remained. Our efforts in his behalf and our sympathy for 
him he tenderly felt and always met with many testimo- 
nies of gratitude. 

During the exercises of school one forenoon, George 
was seen very deeply engrossed with a book. This was 
soon observed by his two anxious friends. Alive as we 
were to his dearest interest, we watched every change in 
his appearance with the solicitude that an anxious mother 
watches the changing symptoms of a sick child. 

The perusal, of that book was evidently producing a 
disastrous effect on the mind of George. That deep, 
settled anxiety that had appeared in his countenance for 
several days was giving place to a sort of uneasy reckless- 
ness and desperation of feeling. 



MY LAST WINTER IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOL. 8 I 

What could be the character of the book that was 
working such a change in his appearance and evidently in 
his feeling ? We soon ascertained that it was a work on 
that system of error that says, in the language of the old 
serpent to our first parents, " Thou shalt not surely die." 
The great deceiver has no mightier instrument of quieting 
a troubled conscience, hushing the secret whisperings of 
the Spirit, and lulling the soul into the slumbers of the 
second death ! Our anxiety for his spiritual welfare was 
now brought almost into agony. Had George, as we 
were gazing upon him, been suddenly smitten down, a. 
lifeless corpse, our alarm and distress could scarcely have 
been greater. In every possible way — by the unutterable 
anxiety of our countenances and by our notes, in which 
we expostulated, warned, and entreated — we besought 
him to desist from this deliberate act of self-ruin to his 
soul ; but all was in vain. He persisted, thus deliberately 
closing his ears to the entreaties of his friends and the 
warnings of conscience. 

From this sad day all seriousness disappeared, and he 
could even jest at his former feelings and the prayers and 
entreaties of his anxious class-mates. The Spirit was 
grieved away, and the voice of conscience hushed into a 
slumber so deep, so death-like, that there is reason to fear 
nothing but the trump of the last great day will ever 
awake it. 

But on whom rested the fearful responsibility of having 
placed that conscience-silencing, Spirit-grieving, and soul- 
ruining volume in the hands of that once anxious but 
now hardened youth ? Alas ! it was a professed friend 
and class-mate, Daniel Thompson, who approached him as 
Joab did Amasa, with a kiss on his lips but a sword in 
his hand. It is true that friend was then, like all his 



82 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

class-mates, but a youth, and he was only acting out the 
principles in which his parents had educated him. But 
all this can be no excuse for a deliberate attempt to stop 
a fellow-mortal in his inquiries after the way of life, and 
turn him back into the beaten pathway to perdition. 

And now a few words in regard to the subsequent his- 
tory of these class-mates. 

Charles, after having pursued a course of preparatory 
studies for a few years, entered the ministry, and is in 
New England, laboring with a good degree of success in 
the vineyard of the Lord. We have not often met, but 
have ever been warm friends, both cherishing the most 
tender recollection of our last winter at the public school 
and the solemn and interesting scenes connected with 
that dear old sacred oak in the beautiful grove. 

Daniel is, so far as I know, an industrious and respectable 
citizen. But he still adheres to that system of error by 
which he was the unhappy instrument of engulfing in 
ruin all the immortal hopes and interests of his classmate 
George. 

But alas for poor George, the once anxious inquirer after 
the way of life and salvation ! What must be said of 
him ? So sad and mournful was his short life of intem- 
perance and opposition to every thing sacred that I can 
not dwell upon it. But let all my young readers learn 
a lesson from it, and make use of opportunities while they 
are theirs. 



CHAPTER VII. 

ATTENDING ACADEMY. MY FIRST SCHOOL. DECIDING TO 

PREPARE FOR THE MINISTRY. 

IN the spring of 1821 my oldest brother and sister and 
myself attended, one term, the academy at Uxbridge. 
This was my first experience of leaving my home. But 
as my brother and sister were with me, there was no 
especial loneliness experienced. Every Sabbath evening 
we had a season of religious conversation and prayer at 
my sister's room. Some pleasant new acquaintances were 
formed among the students, and the term was, in all 
respects, one of interest and profit. 

In the autumn of 1822 I attended the academy in Mon- 
son one term. There was nothing of marked interest 
during that period — my first absence from home alone — 
except that I had a severe attack of what physicians call 
nostalgia, but in common language is called home-sick- 
ness. This disease is so well known that it need not be 
described. 

In the winter of that year, when I was a little more 
than eighteen years of age, I taught school in the east 
part of Sutton, in what was called the Hatherway dis- 
trict. One event in connection with my teaching there 
may be worthy of notice. 

For two or three winters there had been some insubor- 
dination in the school. Soon after it commenced that 

winter, word came to me that Charles , my oldest 

scholar, had given out word that he intended to put the 
young teacher out of the school-house, 

83 



84 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

For several days it was evident that he was preparing 
for a conflict. Just before closing school one afternoon, 
as I passed near him, I quietly and unobserved by any 
one requested him to stop a few moments after school. 

When we were alone, I informed him in as pleasant a 
manner as possible of what I had heard. I then assured 
him that there would be no opportunity for any such con- 
flict between him and his teacher. He was then informed 
of the business for which the school committee had hired 
me — to teach, and not to see who was the stronger, some 
one of the scholars or the teacher. He was told what a 
large proportion of the taxes paid by the parents in that 
district was for school purposes ; and that the parents 
had a right to expect that I should be as faithful in teach- 
ing their children as any one would be in performing any 
work for which he was hired. 

" Now, Charles," said I, " I shall have no time to turn 
away from my work of teaching to test my strength with 
any of my older scholars, who know better than to inter- 
rupt the peace and prosperity of the school. I shall just 
request the committee to remove any such disturbers of 
our work from the school. I should be very sorry to have 
any of my older scholars — and especially my oldest and 
best one — taken out of school. You are almost as old 
as your teacher. With a diligent use of your time, in one 
or two winters you yourself will be as well qualified to 
teach as he is. And I want to do all I can this winter to 
aid you, and also all the scholars, in making such progress 
in the business for which the school is kept that at the 
close it shall be said by the committee and all the parents 
that this has been the best school they have ever had. I 
want this should be the case, both for my own sake and 
also for the sake of all the scholars. Our success as 



MY FIRST EXPERIENCE IN KEEPING SCHOOL. 85 

teacher and scholars will be judged of by the orderly 
character of the school and by the progress that is made 
in the various branches of study by the scholars. Now, 
Charles, all this will depend a good deal on the older 
scholars. If they are studious and orderly, and show an 
interest in the peace and improvement of the school, the 
younger ones will be likely to do the same. So I want 
you, my oldest scholar, to take the lead and be my assist- 
ant in this matter." 

I then approached him, and extending my hand, said : 

" May I depend on you, Charles, to do this ? " 

The tears came in his eyes as he took my hand and 

pledged his help. He walked quite a distance towards 

my boarding-place, away from his home, while we had a 

very pleasant talk. 

It hardly need be said that Charles fulfilled his promise 
and was a most studious and well-behaved scholar all 
through the winter, and a great help to the teacher. 

Was not this a much better way than to have had a 
conflict before the school ? 

In the spring of this year I began to consider the subject 
whether I ought not to prepare myself to preach the gos- 
pel. As it was quite a trial for my father to give up his 
plans to entrust more fully the management of the farm 
to my older brother, and accede to that brother's wishes 
to obtain an education, I resolved not to mention my 
desires to my father. Instead of this, I arranged with 
my oldest sister to be my mediator in the matter. After 
stating freely to her my longing to fit myself for that 
important profession, I left it with her to confer with both 
mother and father on the subject. Sister entered heartily 
into my plans. She had frequent conversations on the 
subject with our mother, who approved of my purposes. 



86 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

At length the matter was laid before father. This was 
while I was absent with my school, and while at home, at 
one time, father informed me of what he had learned in 
regard to my wishes, from my sister and also from mother. 
He then said that such a step was a very important one. 
It would be a course that would involve large expense ; 
and the thought of preparing for that sacred office was a 
very solemn one. He then said he wanted me carefully 
to consider the subject and let him know what I thought 
it best for me to do. I told him " I had thought the 
subject over with a great deal of seriousness and prayer; 
and I had already made up my mind to prepare for college 
as soon as I became of age. I did not wish to do any 
thing that would increase his care and anxiety so long as 
he rightly claimed my help/' 

A few hours after this pleasant and perfectly free con- 
versation, he met me again and kindly said : " You had 
better go back to your school, and at its close go with 
your brother, who has entered Amherst College, to Am- 
herst Academy and commence your studies." 

It was pleasant to see how much easier my good father 
found it, when he had once made the sacrifice of giving 
up one son, to give up the second ; and I believe it 
became easier and easier till five of his boys started 
for college. 

We children felt, with our parents, that so far as possi- 
ble we should share alike in regard to pecuniary favors. 
When we, one after another, became of age, a few hundred 
dollars were given us. Those of us who left home for 
study before we became of age were charged for our time 
just what it would cost to secure men to take our places. 
Then all the expenses of our education were readily met 
by our father, and we gave our notes on interest for the 



MY FIRST EXPERIENCE IN KEEPING SCHOOL. 87 

same, to be paid as we could obtain the means after we 
entered upon our work. 

This plan we all approved, and it made us economical in 
our expenses, and taught us important lessons, in many 
respects, that were of great value to us in after life. We 
knew that the whole family at home, father and mother, 
brothers and sisters, were economizing in many ways on 
our account, to furnish the means we needed to pursue 
our studies. 

In my own case it was many years after I entered my 
profession before my indebtedness for my education was 
canceled. When in college it was often a wonder to me, 
how the sons of parents in moderate circumstances — sons 
of clergymen, in some cases, with small income, and 
when they knew every member of the family at home was 
making the greatest sacrifices in their behalf — could be 
so thoughtless and prodigal. If every term students were 
obliged to sign a note for the money they expend, it might 
check their prodigality. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

PREPARATORY AND COLLEGE COURSE. 

IN the spring of 1822 I entered Amherst Academy, 
where I spent about one year and seven months. My 
class-mate, Thomas Boutelle, agreed to be my room-mate 
when we entered college. But near the close of our pre- 
paratory course he concluded to spend another year in 
the academy, as it would have been wise for me also to 
have done. 

By his decision I was left without a room-mate for col- 
lege, and I threatened a suit for breach of promise unless 
he would provide a substitute, and one as congenial as 
himself. He recommended his cousin, Asaph Boutelle, 
then in the academy at New Ipswich, N. H. 

I opened a correspondence with him, which resulted in 
a mutual agreement, though we had never met, to enter 
this interesting relation of room-mates. And we were so 
well satisfied with the union that we continued it for 
three years ; and we should have continued it through the 
whole course, had not circumstances prevented. We were 
in perfect sympathy in our tastes and in our religious sen- 
timents and feelings, and in regard to the work of life for 
which we were studying. No two class-mates were more 
attached to each other than we ; and this attachment 
continued till my dear friend finished his course in the 
ministry and received his reward. 

I entered college in 1824, when I was twenty years of 
age. The college was then in its infancy, and it had a 



PREPARATORY AND COLLEGE COURSE. 89 

hard struggle for existence. The students, scarcely less 
than the trustees and faculty, were greatly interested in 
all that was done to secure its endowment and its charter, 
and great was the enthusiasm when the act of incorpora- 
tion was obtained. 

Rev. Heman Humphrey, d.d., was our president at that 
time, and our professors were Messrs. Edward Hitchcock, 
Nathan W. Fiske, Solomon Peek, Samuel M. Worcester, 
and Jacob Abbott. Ebenezer S. Snell was then tutor. 

In consequence of my home training, as described in 
Chapter IV, the laws and rules of college never came in 
conflict with my wishes. I never felt inclined to join any 
college strikes. Sometimes I was a little troubled lest 
some of those inclined to lawlessness would think I was 
green or wanting in courage. But I could really find noth- 
ing I wanted to do in violation of the requirement of col- 
lege, or that would bring me into conflict with the officers 
whose business it was to look after the unruly. It was no 
virtue in me, but it was the result of my early training. 

There was one thing, perhaps, that helped to keep me 
watchful over my conduct in college. The year before I 
went to Amherst for study, two students of college from 
Sutton were sent home for insubordination. It seemed to 
me at the time that it must be a terrible disgrace to them- 
selves and a most grievous mortification to their parents 
and friends. I said to myself: "What a dreadful thing it 
would be should my brother, who was then in college, be 
thus disgraced ! " And so, in the simplicity of my heart, I 
wrote him a long letter, beseeching him to be careful and 
do nothing that would bring such a disgrace upon him and 
such grief upon his home. And this I did, although that 
brother was a professing Christian and was studying for 
the ministry ! Still, the bare thought that such a thing 



90 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

could happen was to me most appalling. This made such 
an impression upon me that it no doubt served to make 
me more watchful over my own conduct while in college. 

While in the academy I became very much interested in 
the religious meetings, both in the academy and in the 
village. Rev. Daniel A. Clark was then the pastor of the 
Congregational church near the college. I often was with 
him in the meetings among his people. 

During a time of unusual religious interest in the 
academy, President Humphrey preached one evening. He 
spoke without notes. I felt much alarmed as he men- 
tioned his text, which indicated that he was going to speak 
on the doctrine of election. That subject was more fre- 
quently presented in those days than it is now. I feared 
the preaching on that subject would check the revival. 
But what was my surprise to learn that three young per- 
sons, under the influence of that same sermon and while 
they were listening to it, were led to hope in the electing 
love and mercy of God ! And ever since then I have felt 
that there is no doctrine or truth in the Word of God, 
if properly and in a scriptural way presented, that will be 
out of place in a revival. God's truth will not grieve afaay 
the Holy Spirit. 

Very early in my studies at Amherst, my attention 
was directed to the colored people in town, of whom 
there were quite a number. In the family where for 
awhile I boarded, there was a colored servant whom we 
all called "Mother Phillis." She was a widow about sixty 
years of age. She was an intelligent and devoted Chris- 
tian. Very often I used to get up early Monday mornings, 
when she was engaged in washing, that I might have a 
good religious talk with her. Those seasons were more 
inspiring to my religious feelings than many a sermon. 



PREPARATORY AND COLLEGE COURSE. 9 I 

This interest in Mother Phillis made me acquainted 
with her children and their families. And early in college 
I formed a Bible class in a private dwelling, about a mile 
distant. This class was kept up till I left college. It was 
one of the most interesting classes I ever taught. We 
usually had a room full of persons of all ages. 

My interest in this class of people was such that for 
two or three years my heart was very much set upon 
spending my life in Africa. Mother Phillis was most 
deeply interested in this class. After I left Amherst, in 
answer to a letter she thus expresses the overflowings of 
a grateful, pious soul : — 

I improve this opportunity to answer your kind letter. The past 
acquaintance of which you speak is ever to be remembered by me : 
for our sweet conversation about God I can not forget. When I call 
to remembrance those past hours in which I took so much delight in 
talking about God and his love to man, holy joy warms my aged 
heart. Even now it is filled with sacred love and thanksgiving to 
God that he gave me a friend with whom I could converse so freely 
upon the soul-reviving subject of redeeming love. 

I carried your letter to the class and it was read. They were all 
rejoiced to hear from you, and to know that you had not forgotten 
them. Oh, that I had the happy news to tell you that the class, or 
even one of them, had begun to rejoice in hope of salvation through 
a crucified Redeemer ! But alas ! it is not so. But be not dis- 
couraged. We know not what the Lord in his great mercy may do for 
their precious souls. Still continue your prayers in faith for us, know- 
ing that the prayer of faith availeth much. 

Our little class is becoming more interesting, and we have begun to 
get a library. May God revive his work in this class until all shall go 
forth joyfully praising God and the Lamb ! 

I thank you for your kind exhortations. May God strengthen me 
by his almighty grace to do my duty better, and live nearer to him 
than I have hitherto done ; and may he crown all your undertakings 
with success ! 

In 1829, while I was at Andover Theological Seminary, 
she wrote to a mutual friend of ours a most touching 



92 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

letter, expressing the greatest sorrow and disappointment 
that her old friend and teacher was not to be at the com- 
mencement at Amherst as was expected. 

"Why did we indulge the hope," she writes, "of seeing 
you and our former teacher here this fall ? Our fondest 
expectations are now cut off forever. Tell Mr. B. that 
all our class have cherished the strongest hopes of seeing 
him. Even little Harriet says : ' Grandma, Mr. Bullard 
is coming next week ! ' But alas ! her expectations failed 
with ours. 

" A few weeks since I said : l Commencement is close by, 
and then I shall see my best friend ; yes, my eyes, ere they 
are closed in death, shall see him once more.' But now 
I know that my eyes shall see him no more, and my ears, 
which have so oft heard the voice of prayer from his lips, 
shall hear his voice no more. Tell Mr. B. that our Bible 
class has improved some, and our teachers very much." 

Is it strange that such appreciation of the little service 
I was able to give this class led me to feel a very deep 
interest in them and in behalf of this race every-where ? 

During most of my vacations in college I taught school ; 
one winter in South Weymouth. The school-house was 
very small for the large number of scholars. There was 
a large, old-fashioned fire-place, but the house was heated 
by a stove, sometimes literally heated. The spacious 
fire-place was utilized by placing in it several seats, which 
were occupied by some of the smaller children. Then 
boards were placed across the passage-ways between the 
tiers of seats so as to accommodate several more of the 
scholars. 

The people in Weymouth were in the habit of making 
a good deal of the closing examinations of their schools. 
I was informed that many of the older scholars in my 



PREPARATORY AND COLLEGE COURSE. 



93 



school — as the examination was the last session of the 
school — were in the habit of absenting themselves. So 
I told the school, a few weeks before the close, that there 
ought to be a new and larger school-house in this district. 
This house was quite too strait, too small, for such a large 
number of scholars, and that it was old and every way 
inconvenient. And then I told them " I would almost 
promise them a new school-house before the next winter 
if they would do one thing. Let every scholar be present 
at the examination. Fill every seat so that all the parents 
and friends who come to the examination will have to 
stand, and so that they can see how inconvenient the 
house is for so many scholars, and I believe the district 
will at once build a new and more spacious house." 

The examination day came, and every scholar was 
present and every seat was occupied. The friends came 
in and filled every inch of space — the floor — between the 
seats and the entry, and numbers were on the outside 
looking in at the windows. The crowd was such that the 
scholars, when they recited, had to stand upon their seats 
to be seen ! It is enough to say that the people of " Fore- 
Street District " saw and felt the necessity of a larger and 
and a better school-house for their children ; and the next 
season it was provided, and the teacher's promise was 
fulfilled, much to the joy and comfort of the scholars. Of 
course this event made the teacher a very popular man 
among the scholars. 

Two winters I taught the district school in what is 
called " Eight Lots," in the town of Sutton, about two 
miles from my old home. Then one winter I taught the 
grammar school in the town of Canton, Conn. And I 
find, among my old papers and documents, two written 
addresses that I delivered to my school, one near the 



94 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

beginning and the other at the close. Judging from these 
addresses, and from my recollections, religious instruction 
was made quite prominent ; and teacher and scholars were 
on the most friendly terms, so that the separation, at the 
close, was very tender ; and all carried away pleasant 
memories of the few weeks we had spent together. 

Shortly after Amherst College received its charter in 
1825, measures were taken to form a college church, and in 
March, 1826, one was formed under the name of "The 
Church of Christ in Amherst College." 

The college was founded by the prayers and toils and 
sacrifices of Christian men, and it has ever been, in a re- 
markable sense, a Christian college. It has often been the 
scene of the special out-pouring of the Holy Spirit. There 
were two revivals of remarkable interest during my con- 
nection with college, in 1827 and 1828. 

In Professor Tyler's " History of Amherst College during 
its First Half -century," he has used the following extract 
of a letter, which, by his request, I wrote him, in regard 
to an incident in the latter revival : — 

Only a few weeks before the close of the term President Humphrey 
was all ready one Saturday to start for his former home in Pittsfield, 
when some students called on him and told him that there were signs 
of seriousness in college. Dr. Humphrey turned out his horse and 
gave up his visit. At evening prayers he stopped the pious students 
and gave them a most solemn exhortation to earnest prayer and faithful 
labor for a revival. The Holy Spirit was evidently present. Sabbath 
day several were hopefully converted, and for a day or two conversions 
were constantly occurring, when all at once the work seemed to stop. 

Monday evening the president again stopped the pious students 
after prayers and, in the most solemn and anxious manner, said : 
"Something is wrong!" 

Never shall I forget that day ! and many will probably remember 
while they live that judgment-like Monday. The students were 
gathered every-where in little clusters, as solemn as if some great 



PREPARATORY AND COLLEGE COURSE. 95 

calamity had just fallen upon us. Soon the college was one great 
house of prayer. In every entry and from many a room could be 
heard the voice of the most earnest, agonizing supplications. From 
that hour the work went on. Those who were bowed down under 
conviction of sin found relief, and there were conversions almost every 
day till the close of the term. 

In these revivals there were many most remarkable 
cases of conversion ; some of them of those who were, as 
many felt, the most hopeless, as they were certainly the 
most reckless, in college. Among the converts were the 
late Rev. A. W. McClure, d.d., the eloquent and able 
preacher, author, editor, etc. ; and Henry Lyman, the 
devoted missionary, who fell a martyr among the Battas of 
Sumatra. 

There were many events of interest, serious and com- 
ical, that might be mentioned, connected with my four 
years in college. It may not be out of place to record 
the following incident: — 

A few years ago I was at the commencement services 
at my Alma Mater. At the prize speaking, with two 
other gentlemen, I was requested to sit on the plat- 
form with the professor who presided. At the close of the 
evening session, as the professor was about to announce 
the prizes, he said : — 

" It may be interesting to the audience to be informed 
that there is a gentleman on the platform who, sixty years 
ago, at the first prize speaking in Amherst College, when 
he was a freshman, spoke and received a prize ! " 

This singular and most unexpected announcement was 
received with a burst of applause from the audience. 
How little we know in regard to our future ! We may 
propose, but God disposes. 

Some one, a few days before my class graduated, asked : 
•" What are you going to do after you graduate ? " 



g6 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

My instant reply was : " I am going immediately to 
Andover Theological Seminary, and right through the 
course into my work. You don't find me going off to 
teach, as some of the class are going to do." 

A few days after, Prof. Jacob Abbott, my professor in 
mathematics, sent for me to call at his room. On meeting 
him he said he had received a letter from Augusta, Me., 
asking him to send some one to teach a private school 
of twenty or twenty-five boys, who were fitting for col- 
lege. He then said he had sent for me, to ask if I would 
go and take charge of that school. 

What a change in all my plans and possibly in my 
whole life-work that question wrought ! In the first 
place, the asking of that question of me I could not but 
regard as complimentary to myself. Then, the place and 
the character of the school seemed very desirable, and 
so I yielded my proposed plans and followed what seemed 
to be the leading of providence, and accepted the offer. 
And it is pleasant, at this distance of time, to be able to 
say that I never saw occasion to regret the course I then 
decided to take. 

It was always a matter of interest to me to notice how 
differently some officers in college were regarded by differ- 
ent classes. With one class a professor would be very 
popular, and perhaps with the next class that came under 
his instruction, extremely unpopular. I would often 
inquire with myself : " What is the cause of this differ- 
ence ? Is it likely that the professor is constantly chang- 
ing ? Is he affable with one class and then arbitrary and 
censorious with the next, or is the change in the temper- 
ament and character of the class ? " 

The following reminiscences of Prof. Jacob Abbott I 
wrote for the " memorial edition of his Young Christian/* 
prepared by his sons : — 



PREPARATORY AND COLLEGE COURSE. 9 7 

Jacob Abbott was my professor in mathematics and natural philoso- 
phy in Amherst College from 1825 to my graduation in 1828. My 
recollections of him as a professor and as a Christian man have been 
very pleasant. There was no officer in college who was more uni- 
formly popular and more generally respected by all classes of stu- 
dents than he. He was remarkably paternal, or rather fraternal, in 
his intercourse with the students. He was always approachable by 
every one. No one felt repelled from him by his looks and general, 
manners, but rather encouraged to go to him more freely for counsel. 

While in perfect accord with all the faculty, in regard to the im- 
portance of a healthy college discipline, and ever ready to rebuke: 
wrong-doing, yet there was no air of the autocrat about him, nothing 
overbearing and dictatorial. There was no officer in college to whom 
a student in any trouble would sooner go than to him. He knew he 
would be received kindly, and that the professor would be most ready 
to give him all the help he was able. There was no one in whose 
judgment and decision, in regard to any matter between the students, 
all would more fully confide. I recall one very remarkable case. 

A small number of one of the literary societies became disaffected 
in regard to some action of the society, withdrew and formed a new 
organization. The seceders claimed a portion of the library. The 
contest over the matter became very sharp. At length both parties 
agreed to submit the question to Professor Abbott and abide by his 
decision- The two parties met, and it was marvelous to see how 
wisely, impartially, and convincingly he laid the whole subject before 
the contestants. As he proceeded from one step to another he carried 
the conscience of every one till, with consummate skill, he brought 
the parties to his decision. While the decision was very trying to the 
large majority, they accepted it without a reflection on the judge. No 
other officer in college, I think, could have arbitrated the case so wisely 
and secured such ready acceptance of his decision. 

As a teacher Mr. Abbott was always popular with the class. He 
had a remarkable faculty of making the dry study of mathematics 
attractive. He seemed to have an inexhaustible fund of anecdote 
and illustration, which he used as felicitously in teaching science as 
he did subsequently in preparing popular literature for the young. 
He had a tact in enlisting the interested attention of the class. He 
threw so much personal interest and enthusiasm into his manner of 
instructing that he excited a corresponding enthusiasm in the students. 

I think very few students were much inclined to deceive him in 



98 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

regard to their lessons or their general conduct, or to play tricks upon 
him, as some were in the case of some other officials. His dignified 
and courteous bearing and his affable treatment of all seemed to 
command the respect of all, and to disarm even those naturally 
inclined to exhibitions of fun and mischief. 

Mr. Abbott was always respected and revered as a truly Christian 
man. All believed him sincere in what he said and did as a professed 
follower of Jesus. He entered with great earnestness into all plans 
and efforts to promote the religious awakenings that frequently ex- 
isted while he was in college. Many students, now actively engaged 
in Christian work, or who are, through faith and patience, inheriting 
the promises, no doubt remember his earnest words of exhortation, 
counsel, and prayers in connection with their awakenings and early 
religious experience. 



CHAPTER IX. 

A YEAR IN AUGUSTA, MAINE. 

SOON after graduating, in 1828, I went directly to 
Augusta, Maine. My journey was in a packet. 
This was my first experience upon the ocean. It was a 
wearisome voyage, as we were for a long time becalmed. 
The rolling of the vessel, as we lay in the hot sun, was 
any thing but pleasant to the few half-seasick passengers. 
I had just enough of nausea to prevent me from patron- 
izing the steward for nearly two days. I suffered more 
than I did in my voyages to and from Glasgow in 1880, for 
I was not at all uncomfortable in those trips, though our 
return one was extremely rough. 

As we entered the Kennebec River and our discomfort 
left us, the mate brought me a cup of coffee, a nice piece 
of smoked herring, or "Kennebec turkey," as it is called 
in Maine, and some sea-crackers. Did ever a king relish 
the most sumptuous dinner as I did that simple repast ? 

My home for the year spent in Augusta was in the 
most delightful family of the late Rev. Benjamin Tappan, 
d.d., pastor of the Congregational church in the town. 
And to make every thing as favorable to me, pecuniarily, 
as possible, he proposed that I should teach two of his 
daughters, Elizabeth, now the wife of Rev. E. B. Webb, 
d.d., late pastor of the Shawmut Church in Boston, and 
Jane, in Latin, one hour a day out of school, for my board. 
This proposal was most gladly accepted. 

As for the school, which I was told was to consist of 
twenty or twenty-five boys fitting for college, I did not 

99 



IOO INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

find, in two respects, what I anticipated. First, the 
places in which it was held, for we were obliged to make 
several changes, were any thing but convenient and 
inviting. And in the next place I found that about every 
branch of study, from Homer's Iliad to the elementary 
reader, was to be taught ; and that there must be about 
as many classes as there were scholars. Of course it was 
evident, from the first, that no teacher, under such cir- 
cumstances, could do any justice either to himself or to 
his pupils. It also greatly increased the labors of the 
teacher to have so many classes. 

With these exceptions the school was found to be very 
pleasant. The scholars were from the leading families of 
the town. It was not many weeks before the request 
came that a class of six or eight young misses might 
be admitted to the school ; and erelong the number of 
pupils was thirty-six. This addition to the number at 
first proposed I consented to, though the teacher's salary 
was not correspondingly increased. 

Yet under all these unfavorable circumstances, so far 
as any expressions were known, the school was regarded 
a success. Several of the scholars obtained a liberal 
education and prepared themselves for the different 
public professions — four or five of them for the ministry. 
Rev. Benjamin Tappan, Jr., who read most of Homer's 
Iliad during the year, was, for several years, pastor of the 
Winthrop Church, Charlestown, and afterward, for many 
years, pastor of the Congregational church in Norridge- 
wock, Maine. His wife, Delia Emmons, a daughter of 
Judge Emmons, of Augusta, and granddaughter of the dis- 
tinguished divine, Rev. Dr. Emmons, of Franklin, Mass., 
was also a member of my school. 

This year in Augusta was a very busy and, to me, inter- 



A YEAR IN AUGUSTA, MAINE. IOI 

esting one, outside of the school and the one hour a day 
in teaching Latin. Soon after commencing the school, 
by the request of Rev. Dr. Tappan, the pastor, I prepared 
and read to his people, at the close of the morning 
sermon, an address on the subject of Sabbath-schools. 
In a short time I took measures to gather a Bible class 
on Sabbath afternoons, for colored people. There were 
only six or eight of that class of persons in the place, but 
so much interest was awakened that they came from 
Hallowell, two miles, and even from Gardiner, six miles, 
and I soon had a class of twenty-five or thirty. I wrote 
to a friend the following account of this class, which may 
interest my readers : — 

After the exercises of the first Sabbath, I sat down in rather a melan- 
choly mood, and began to think of my Sabbaths spent in Massachu- 
setts. On no public exercise of the Sabbath did my mind rest with 
such intense interest as my Bible class for the colored people. The 
realization that the many pleasant seasons spent in that class were now 
at an end not a little increased my sadness. But the inquiry soon 
arose in my mind, May there not be some of that neglected people in 
this place? If so, can they not be collected into a class? On learning 
that there were two or three small families, consisting, in all, of some 
six or eight souls, I resolved to search them out. Accordingly, the 
next Sabbath afternoon I called at one of their dwellings and found a 
very intelligent-looking woman, who listened with much apparent 
interest to the explanation of my object, and said that she could not 
read any, but she should like to learn, so that she might read her Bible. 
This readiness to enter into my plans greatly encouraged me to hope 
that a class could be collected with but little difficulty. 

As I approached the next dwelling, near by, I heard the loud laugh 
and the voice of merriment. This damped my early hopes. I stopped, 
turned about, and well-nigh resolved to abandon my object, at least for 
that time. But a moment's reflection influenced me to seize the pres- 
ent opportunity and go forward. I entered with some reluctance, and 
there found six or eight colored persons, some from other towns, who 
had collected together to spend their Sabbath evening in amusement. 

It would be rather difficult for a person not familiar with such scenes 



I O 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

to conceive the variety of emotions which the presence of a stranger,, 
especially on such an errand, produced among them. At first they 
manifested an astonishment bordering on consternation. But as the 
object of my visit was explained, and the advantages of spending a 
part of the Sabbath in the study of the Bible mentioned, together with 
the interest manifested by a class of colored persons in Massachusetts,, 
the first excitement subsided, and some began to show great interest; 
some appeared indifferent ; and some half-concealed a smile of 
derision. 

After some more conversation, they concluded to consider the subject,, 
and decide in reference to it at my next call. During the week I called 
again, and found my compensation the only thing concerning which 
they had any further inquiries to make. Being informed that the only 
compensation expected or wished for was their attendance and improve- 
ment, they readily accepted my proposals and appointed the next Sab- 
bath for organization. 

On the next Sabbath I found some six or seven assembled, awaiting 
my arrival. Having implored the aid of the Spirit, without which all 
our efforts are inefficient, they were requested to read a chapter in the 
Bible. Some could read with considerable ease, some very little, and 
some not at all. 

I felt that the success of this experiment depended, in a great meas- 
ure, upon the impression made at the first meeting ; and it was so 
ordered that the impression was most favorable. A very lively interest 
was evidently awakened among several of the class, who soon visited 
many of the colored people living two, and even six, miles distant, and 
told them all about their class and invited their attendance. 

On the following Sabbath our number was somewhat enlarged, and 
the interest increased. One middle-aged female, who barely knew her 
alphabet, had purchased a Testament, and began to spell out some of 
the small words. She continued to improve every week, and was soon 
able to read with the class with some ease. Not unfrequently she 
would repeat five or ten verses of Scripture which she had learned, with 
much painstaking, during the week. 

One girl, eighteen or twenty years of age, who was quite intelligent,, 
has been of great service in hearing some of the children read and recite 
their lessons. She usually has recited herself from fifteen to fifty verses 
every Sabbath. Another little girl of nine recited ten, sometimes forty,, 
verses with great propriety. 

Almost every week has shown some increase of interest, sometimes 



A YEAR IN AUGUSTA, MAINE. IO3 

of numbers. During the latter part of autumn the class varied in num- 
ber from twelve to twenty, some of whom came a distance of six miles, 
most of them with their new Bibles or Testaments. 

About this time one of the class suggested the expediency of meet- 
ing a part of the time at an adjoining town, for the better accommoda- 
tion of numbers living at a distance ; at the same time he manifested 
his interest by generously offering to procure a carriage for my convey- 
ance. This suggestion led to the organization of another class in that 
town, under the care of several resident young men. My class was 
somewhat diminished by the formation of this new one, but continued 
to have an average number of twelve or fourteen. 

The interest of the class, which decreased a little during the intense 
cold of winter, revived again in the spring, and continued to increase 
through the summer. At some meetings a very deep solemnity has 
pervaded the class ; and personal conversation has in some instances 
discovered a tenderness of conscience which encourages the hope that 
the Lord, who " has made of one flesh all the nations of the earth, 11 
does intend to prepare some of these poor souls for his heavenly king- 
dom. 

A girl about twenty years of age, who has long been striving hard, 
in opposition to many natural obstacles, to learn to read, having made 
but little or no progress, one day burst into tears and said: " I do 
want to learn to read my Bible." 

Another girl, about the same age, who had made considerable pro- 
gress in her efforts to read, said, with eyes full of tears : " Oh, how I 
want to be able to sit down and read one chapter in my Bible. But I 
am almost discouraged, and sometimes think I will give it up." After 
a little encouragement, she said: "I will begin once more and try 
harder, for I do want to read my Bible." 

The woman mentioned above, who had begun to read with the class, 
has appeared exceedingly interested ever since the class was organ- 
ized. She refuses to work out on Wednesday, for she wishes to spend 
that day at home, so as to devote part of it to her lessons for the Bible 
class. She often shows much sorrow for sin, and expresses strong de- 
sires to become a Christian. Oh, may the Lord renew her heart ! This 
class, which I now leave, I commend to the prayers of those who love 
the souls of all men, and to the protection of the God of all grace, 
praying with earnestness that I may meet each member of it in the 
kingdom of glory. 



1 04 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

At nine o'clock Sabbath morning I had a class of the 
boys of my school in the Sabbath-school at the church. 
I then rode three miles and held a public service in a large 
school-house, in what was called the North Parish, read- 
ing a printed sermon. In a short time I organized a 
Sabbath-school, which I superintended in this school-house 
at the close of the morning service ; then in the after- 
noon we had a Bible service, for which I made very 
careful preparation. This service became so crowded 
that the house and entry were full, and many gathered 
on the outside about the windows. Then at five o'clock 
in the afternoon I held my Bible class for colored people 
in the village. This made the Sabbaths of the year very 
busy days. 

A revival of great interest commenced in the North 
Parish, soon after these various services at the school-house 
began. As the results of this revival, in a year or two 
a Congregational church of about sixty-five members, 
including several who were already professors of religion, 
was formed. A convenient house of worship was erected 
a year or two later, at the dedication of which I delivered 
a written address. 

All my half-holidays were spent, after the revival com- 
menced, in visiting among the people of my little parish. 
And frequently I attended their weekly-prayer-meetings. 
Some of the most interesting memories of my life are 
connected with our services among this most appreciative 
and affectionate people. 

In the annual report of the Maine Sabbath-school 
Union for 1832, the board of managers thus speak of the 
school here referred to : — 

" In the North Parish of Augusta the Sabbath-school 
embraces almost the entire number of adults and chil- 



A YEAR IN AUGUSTA, MAINE. 105 

dren who usually meet together for worship. The whole 
history of this church is identified with the history of 
Sabbath-school operations among them. The exercises of 
the school have constituted their choicest means of grace 
and salvation ; and perhaps in no place have the priv- 
ileges of Sabbath-school instruction been, or can be, more 
affectionately cherished. Within the year eleven have 
been converted from three classes, and nine of these are 
adults who have never, before the last spring, been con- 
nected with a Sabbath-school." 

In a recent letter from my former and highly respected 
pupil, Rev. Benjamin Tappan, d.d., of Norridgewock, 
Maine, he writes : — 

My Dear Old Friend and Teacher, Mr. Bullard, — I had quite an 
unexpected pleasure last evening in receiving and reading your kind 
letter, which I have read again to-day. I remember well those old 
Augusta days, the very pleasant addition you made to my father's 
family ; the great improvement of your teaching in the secular school 
upon that of your predecessors ; the excellent religious influence you 
exerted as a teacher in the Sabbath-school and in your social inter- 
course. The North Parish work I did not, of course, know so much 
about, except through the report of others. But I can think of it 
only as a blessing to Augusta that you spent that year there. I know 
that was my father's and mother's feeling. It must be a matter of 
great joy and thankfulness to you that you have been enabled to do 
so much good in your long life. 

My year at Augusta was, indeed, a very busy, but, to 
me, a very enjoyable year. 



CHAPTER X. 

TWO YEARS AT ANDOVER THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 

IN the autumn of 1829, at the close of my year in 
Augusta, I entered the theological seminary at Ando- 
ver. I had been looking forward to this institution with 
very great interest. . I had supposed there was no spot 
on earth much nearer heaven. It would be, I thought, so 
easy to be good there. The very atmosphere, I supposed, 
would be fragrant with heavenly odors. There I should 
find a sacred retreat which the great Tempter would never 
dare to approach. 

While there was much in the seminary and its environ- 
ments that was indeed helpful in the Christian life, I soon 
found that prayer and watchfulness were not less needed 
here than in college or any of the walks of life. Wherever 
the sons of God may be, Satan will be sure to come among 
them. 

While the studies of the seminary were the main thing 
to occupy my time and thoughts, I felt it a duty and 
privilege to be doing something, so far as I might, for the 
good of others. So I at once connected myself with the 
Sabbath-school of the South Church in the village. 

The first year I was the teacher of a class of mothers, 
and the second year assistant superintendent with the late 
Rev. Thomas Brainard, d.d., of Philadelphia. 

That school was probably one of the largest, if not the 
largest, in the state. On one Sabbath there were present 
six hundred and seven persons, including those of all ages 
from three to about ninety. In one part of the house there 

106 



TWO YEARS AT AND OVER. \OJ 

were several classes of women, in another several of men ; 
and in the gallery, sweeping around three sides of that 
great church, were the young men, most of the young men 
connected with the congregation, and no one of them ever 
intimated that he was either too old or too wise to be in 
the Sabbath-school studying the Word of God. And as a 
result of this general interest in studying the Scriptures, 
blessing after blessing, rich as could come from heaven, 
was shed down upon that people. 

Once a month notice was given by the superintendent 
that next Sabbath would be the " contribution day." All 
were invited to bring at least one cent each. On the con- 
tribution day, just before the offerings were taken, I used 
to go round among some of the smaller scholars and ask 
them if they had their pennies for the contribution. If 
any one said he had forgotten to bring one, I would loan 
him a cent, saying if he thought of it he could bring it to 
me the next Sabbath. Only a few years ago a lady, who 
was then a member of a class of eight young girls of from 
eight to ten years of age, met me and asked if I remem- 
bered loaning cents for the contribution to the children 
who had forgotten to bring them. When informed that I 
well remembered it, " Well," said she, " I used to leave 
mine at home on purpose, so as to show you if you loaned 
me one I should remember to bring it the next Sabbath." 

When Dr. Brainard, who was two years my senior in the 
seminary, left, I was chosen superintendent of this school. 
It was a very responsible position, and I had labored quite 
earnestly to prepare myself for it in visiting my corps of 
teachers and many of the families from which the scholars 
came. But most unexpectedly I was called to engage in 
public Sabbath-school work in the state of Maine, of which 
an account will be given in the next chapter. 



1 08 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY IIFE. 

One vacation during my course at Andover I was 
employed, under the appointment of the Massachusetts 
Sabbath-School Union, which was composed of the Con- 
gregational and Baptist denominations of the state, in 
visiting and addressing eighteen of the churches and 
schools in the northern part of Worcester County in 
regard to Sunday-school matters ; and one vacation I was 
engaged by the friends of this institution in Kennebec 
County, Maine, in promoting this cause among the 
churches and schools in that county. 

These vacation labors very likely, without such a thought 
of it on my part, had much to do in preparing me for what 
has been my life-work. 

About this time quite a new and extensive interest was 
awakened in the cause of Sunday-schools. In 1829, my 
first year at Andover, a Sabbath-school and Bible class 
association was formed among the students of the semi- 
nary, and a similar one in the divinity school of Yale 
University, New Haven, Conn. The object of these soci- 
eties was to collect and diffuse information concerning 
Sabbath-schools and Bible classes, and to learn the best 
methods of conducting and extending them. 

The association at Andover held frequent meetings, at 
which papers were read, followed with free discussions on 
various practical subjects connected with the management 
of these schools and classes. There were several commit- 
tees : one of correspondence, whose duty it was to corre- 
spond with clergymen and others in all parts of this and 
foreign lands in regard to the interests of the institution ; 
one on review, whose duty it was to examine and recom- 
mend books for the library ; and one on publication, with 
which Professor E. A. Park, then a student, and myself 
were connected, whose duty it was to prepare articles 



TWO YEARS AT AND OVER. IO9 

from the communications received bv the committee of 
correspondence and from the papers and discussions of our 
monthly meetings for the press. Twelve or fifteen such 
articles were published in The Sabbath-School Treasury of 
the Massachusetts Sabbath-School Union for 1830-31. 

The subjects of some of these articles were as fol- 
lows : — 

" How can ministers of the gospel best promote the interests of 
Sabbath-schools ? " 

" Mutual instruction. 11 

" What is your mode of teaching? 1 ' 

" How can Sabbath-schools be made to benefit remote parts of the 
town? " 

" Methods of replenishing the library, 11 etc. 

At a meeting of the students of Andover Seminary, 
June 12, the year previous to the organization of the asso- 
ciation, the following resolution was passed : — 

Resolved, That we will endeavor to make ourselves acquainted with 
the best system of Sabbath-school management and instruction and to 
qualify ourselves in all respects as far as we are able to lend our influ- 
ence to this cause ; and that we consider ourselves obligated to aid, 
according to the measure of our ability, in promoting its advancement 
wherever God in his providence may call us. 

All these students carried the spirit of this resolution 
with them into the ministry ; and they were ever the warm 
friends and supporters of this institution. 

Many feel that the students in all our theological semi- 
naries should receive instruction on this subject that shall 
help to prepare them to give efficiency to their Sunday- 
schools. 



CHAPTER XL 

THREE YEARS IN THE SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. 

MY oldest brother, the late Rev. Artemas Bullard, 
d.d., for eighteen years pastor of the First Presby- 
terian Church in St. Louis, Mo., was, for four or five years 
prior to 1832, the secretary of the Massachusetts Sabbath- 
School Union. The year I was in Augusta he attended 
the meeting of the General Conference in Maine. In an 
address in regard to Sunday-schools, he recommended to 
the churches the employment of an agent to labor in 
Maine in visiting the schools already established and to 
organize new ones where needed. He told the people 
that he would obtain for them the man, if the churches in 
Maine would raise the money for the necessary expense. 
In 1830 the board of managers of the Maine Sabbath- 
School Union, wrote him, reminding him of his promise, 
and requesting him to send them the agent and, if he 
could, they wished him to send me. 

When my brother proposed this agency to me, my 
feelings were entirely opposed to it. I did not wish to 
leave the seminary without completing the usual three 
years' course. And then, how could I give up the great 
interest I had anticipated in superintending that important 
Sabbath-school in Andover ? 

The question of duty in this matter was one of the 
most serious that ever had come before me. At the close 
of my theological course my heart was set upon finding 
my field of labor at the West. My brother thought that 
my most direct course to the West was by the way of 



SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. I I I 

Maine ; that a few months in this work in the Sabbath- 
school cause would be the best way to fit myself for the 
great field at the West. 

After much consideration and seeking the advice of 
wise counselors and especially divine guidance, I accepted 
the invitation and became the general agent of the Maine 
Sabbath-School Union. My first expectation was to spend 
only some six months in this work, and then return and 
finish my course at Andover. But it was not long before 
the work became so interesting and its continuance 
appeared so important, that I was urged by the board to 
close my connection with the seminary. This I did, and 
as general agent and corresponding secretary, I continued 
my labors for the Union three years. 

At that time the institution of Sabbath-schools in Maine 
was comparatively in its infancy. There were only about 
three hundred schools connected with the Union, in the 
Congregational and Baptist churches, and not over five 
hundred in the whole state, containing, perhaps, a total of 
twenty thousand teachers and scholars. 

In describing the work of these three years in Maine, I 
shall not do better than to repeat a portion of the account 
given in my " Fifty Years with the Sabbath-schools," 
published in 1876: — 

At the sixth annual meeting of the Union, the first since my connec- 
tion with it, January, 1832, so important did the work appear that the 
following resolution was presented, and after a most earnest advocacy, 
unanimously and with much enthusiasm adopted : — 

Resolved, That, relying upon divine assistance, we will establish a 
Sabbath-school in every town and school district in the state, where it 
is practicable and advisable, within a year and a half from this time. 

During the discussion of this subject, a member of the board of 
managers offered, in case the resolution should be carried into effect, 
to give one hundred and fifty dollars towards the expense of the under- 
taking. 



I I 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

It was understood that it was not generally advisable to establish a 
school in any district where the children could attend any school 
already existing ; and it was not considered practicable unless it could 
be accomplished at a reasonable expense of money and labor. 

It was comparatively an easy matter, on a pleasant January evening, 
and in a warm and comfortable church, to pass this resolution, but it 
was found to be a very different matter to carry it into effect. But this 
action of the Union deeply stirred the hearts of all the friends of the 
cause in the state ; and it is believed there never has been a period 
when there was a greater amount of Sabbath-school work done in 
Maine than during the year and a half contemplated in that resolution. 

Early in the spring, though the traveling before the roads were set- 
tled was exceedingly difficult, I traversed the state in every direction, 
visited the auxiliary unions, and held meetings to secure in every 
county and town committees and individuals who would become 
responsible for the accomplishment of their portion of the work. 
Nearly the whole state was thus appropriated to committees and indi- 
viduals. And a vast amount of labor from voluntary and unpaid 
agents was secured during the year. Young women were obtained to 
teach district schools, with special reference to the establishment of 
Sunday-schools in the towns and neighborhoods where they taught. 
Merchants were pledged to converse with their customers from adja- 
cent towns or districts, and persuade them, if possible, to see that the 
work was accomplished in their respective communities. Juvenile 
sewing circles were formed to help furnish funds for carrying on the 
enterprise. 

It is interesting, at this distance of time, to look back and see the 
enthusiasm manifested so extensively in this undertaking. Men and 
women every-where entered into it most heartily. Ten gentlemen took 
seventeen towns and promised to visit them on the Sabbath, and, so 
far as it was practicable, to establish schools where they were needed. 
An aged minister, with whitened locks, pledged himself to carry the 
resolution into effect in seven different towns, in some of which there 
never had been a school. The plan he adopted for establishing a 
school in one of these towns was quite novel and interesting. Having 
consulted with the minister of the place, and appointed a meeting for 
the purpose, he took his superintendent and several teachers and went 
to the meeting. After addressing the people on the subject, he 
assisted in organizing a school into classes, and choosing the superin- 
tendent and teachers. Then, with his superintendent and teachers, he 



SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. I 13 

gave the people a practical illustration of their manner of teaching and 
conducting a Sabbath-school. This was over fifty years ago, and yet 
was precisely like the Sabbath-school exercise often given at our con- 
ventions of the present day. A few weeks after this, two other schools 
were in operation and arrangements were made to organize two more. 

At the close of a meeting at another place, while several gentlemen 
were consulting together on the work, a young woman offered to 
assume the responsibility of establishing and conducting a school in a 
certain district in an adjoining town, where she expected to teach the 
public school. . 

" But if I should not," she said, "it is only four miles and a half, 
and I can walk out on Saturday, spend the Sabbath in the Sunday- 
school, and then return on Monday." 

She taught the school, as she expected, and also established and sus- 
tained a Sunday-school, almost unaided by any one. 

" There is such a neighborhood," said a man, " where there must be 
a Sabbath-school. I don't know whom we can get to go out there. I 
don't know as there is any one ; but I will see that the work is done." 
As he finished this remark a woman, perhaps fifty years of age, said : — 

" Why won't you let me go to that neighborhood? " 

One of the managers of a county union proposed, at their meeting 
for consultation, that an agent should be employed six months to assist 
them in redeeming their pledge. He also informed them where no 
small part of the necessary funds could be obtained. 

"There are fifteen or sixteen young ladies," said he, "who have 
been, or are now, connected with my class in the Sabbath-school, and 
have all become hopefully pious. Two months ago, they formed them- 
selves into a sewing society, to meet once in two weeks. They have 
already in their treasury about thirty dollars, and they say they will in- 
crease it to seventy-five or one hundred dollars, and give it towards 
defraying the expenses of an agent in this county, if the board will 
employ one. They have also pledged themselves to redeem one hour 
from sleep every morning to work for the cause of Sabbath-schools. 

In another county, instead of employing an agent, the pastors of the 
Congregational churches made an arrangement in the spring for a gen- 
eral exchange, when all were to present the subject of Sabbath-schools 
to each congregation. In addition to this, each minister was to spend, 
a few days in some part of the week with the brother with whom he 
exchanged; and they two were to go into all parts of the parish, where 
it was needful, and hold meetings on the subject, to establish, revive, 



I 1 4 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

or encourage Sabbath-schools, as the case might require. The effect 
of this labor was most happy, both upon the ministers and upon the 
people. The former, from the very fact that they labored in the cause, 
became more deeply interested in it ; while the latter naturally con- 
cluded that an object which had taken such strong hold upon the feel- 
ings of their ministers must be an important one, deserving their hearty 
cooperation. These are but a few specimens of the zeal with which 
men and women all over the state entered into this noble work. 

At the next annual meeting it was reported that a great amount of 
work had been performed, and one hundred new schools liad been 
organized ; but much more remained to be done to carry out the reso- 
lution than could be accomplished by the general agent alone. 

Early in the spring, therefore, I visited the colleges, theological and 
other seminaries, and clergymen, secured the services for this work of 
eighteen students and eight or ten ministers, for from one or two to 
seven weeks each; so that, at the anniversary in January, 1834, it was 
reported that the objects of the resolution passed in 1832 had been 
substantially accomplished. 

During that year, one hundred and eighty-nine new schools were 
organized, making the whole number connected with the Union nine 
hundred and twenty-nine, containing a membership of over thirty-eight 
thousand. 

During the three years of this agency about three hundred new 
schools were established under my direction. Some of these schools, 
for the want of the fostering care of the church, in a few months 
became extinct, but many of them are now among the most flourishing 
and efficient schools in the state. And there were many men and 
women who took part in that work who long looked back upon it with 
no small degree of satisfaction. And there were many laborers in those 
days — almost threescore years ago — in Maine, who would compare 
favorably with any of the most zealous and successful Sunday-school 
workers of the present day. 

Soon after the commencement of my agency, the board 
began to publish a small weekly paper, The Sabbath- 
School Instructor, edited by the secretary, Mr. William 
Cutter. Through this paper, which was widely taken 
in the schools and churches, I was able to keep the 
friends of the Union informed of my work ; and also 



SABBATH-SCHOOL- WORK IN MAINE. 115 

to furnish articles to be read at the Sabbath-school 
concerts, as well as to address parents, teachers, and 
children. 

The publication of this paper greatly aided in carrying 
out the resolution. Its importance was constantly dis- 
cussed and the cooperation of the churches earnestly 
solicited. The frequent reports from the schools helped 
to encourage other schools ; and the discussion of the 
best methods of conducting schools was also very helpful 
and stimulating. 

In order to give me more influence and facility in my 
agency among the churches, at the suggestion of many of 
the ministers in Maine, I applied to an association at 
Augusta, October 25, 1831, and was licensed to preach the 
gospel, and at the annual meeting of the Union, January 
13, 1832, was ordained as an evangelist. The exercises of 
the occasion were peculiar, inasmuch as they were all more 
or less directly connected with my special work. The fol- 
lowing account of the services appeared in The Sabbath- 
School Instructor, published weekly in Portland, by the 
Union : — 

" Ordained in Portland, on the thirteenth instant, Rev. 
Asa Bullard, as an evangelist. Introductory prayer by 
Rev. Adam Wilson, of Portland [Mr. Wilson was the edi- 
tor of a Baptist paper and a member of the Board of Man 
agers of the Union] ; sermon by Rev. Benjamin Tappan, 
of Augusta, text, Deut. 31: 12, 13(1); consecrating prayer 
by Rev. Jothan Sewall, of Chesterville ; charge by Rev. Dr. 
Tyler, of Portland ; right hand of fellowship by Rev. 
Professor Alvin Bond, of Bangor ; address by Rev. Daniel 
D. Tappan, of Alfred ; concluding prayer by Rev. M. 
Butler, of the Baptist church, North Yarmouth. 

" The exercises of the occasion were appropriate and of 
a peculiarly interesting character. The sermon exhibited 



I I 6 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

in a happy and impressive manner the importance of bib- 
lical instruction. Among other topics, the preacher dwelt 
upon the Sabbath-school institution, as combining the 
most successful means for diffusing a knowledge of the 
Bible, and pre-occupying the minds of the rising genera- 
tion in favor of the sacred truths and pure morality of the 
gospel." 

Only a week or two before the above occasion, I was 
taken very seriously ill with an epidemic then prevailing 
in the city, and for a few days was in a critical condition. 
At first it was supposed that the ordination could not take 
place at the time appointed, but the council had been called 
and all who were to take a part in the exercises were pres- 
ent (excepting my brother, Secretary of the Massachusetts 
Sabbath-School Union, who was to have given the right 
hand of fellowship), and it was thought best to proceed. 
The invalid, then slowly convalescent, was bundled up and 
carried to the church, and the exercises, after a short and 
not very searching examination of the candidate, pro- 
ceeded. In the consecrative prayer, Father Sewall, as he 
was called, as he laid his hand, tremulous with age, on my 
head, tenderly and with choked utterance said r — 

" We had feared, O Lord, that we should be called to 
follow this thy young servant to the grave, but thou hast 
in great mercy rebuked his disease, and art now permitting 
us to consecrate him to the work of the ministry, to labor 
in thy vineyard." 

In February, 1832, the Congregational church and 
parish in the town of Bloomfield, Maine, — now Skowhe- 
gan, — gave me a unanimous call " to settle within the 
gospel ministry." But there seemed to me to be no 
intimation of providence for me to change my field of 
labors, and the call was declined. 



SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK TN MAINE. II J 

In some respects the most important and interesting 
event connected with my worldly and, indeed, my religious 
life took place during my three years' work in Maine — my 
marriage. It occurred May 16, 1832, in Amherst, Massa- 
chusetts. During my five or six years in Amherst, in my 
preparatory and collegiate course, I was acquainted with 
Miss Lucretia G. Dickinson. She and two or three of 
her young female cousins and associates, then sixteen or 
seventeen years of age, had but recently become inter- 
ested in religion and united with the church. It was 
about the same time and at about the same age that I 
had myself taken the same important step ; so from 
almost the first week that I entered the town I was 
brought into acquaintance with this circle of young Chris- 
tians. My first boarding-place, on entering the academy, 
was at the home of one of the cousins. 

About the close of my third year in college, I thought 
of teaching a year. This plan was given up, but not till 
I had lost both my room-mates, with whom I had enjoyed 
a most pleasant fellowship for three years, and also the 
chance of a room in the college buildings. This, provi- 
dentially and, as now is evident, most happily to me, was 
the means of my obtaining a room and board at the pleas- 
ant home of Samuel Fowler Dickinson, Esq., and after 
nearly a year's residence together in the same house, or, 
as the adage has it, after we had " summered and wintered 
each other," we mutually entered into a promised alliance 
of interests for life. 

The three or four years of our betrothal gave us the 
opportunity of testing each other's fidelity to our mutual 
pledges, and also of the truth of the proverb that there is 
"more happiness in anticipation than in participation." 
But after walking in happy fellowship with my now sainted 



I I 8 INCIDENTS IN A B US V LIFE . 

companion for more than fifty-three years, I can by no 
means accept the adage. 

The following items in regard to her father are gath- 
ered from Professor Tyler's " History of Amherst College 
during its first Half -century " : — 

Samuel Fowler Dickinson was born in Amherst, October 9, 1775. 
He graduated at Dartmouth College in 1795, at the age of twenty. 
Though the youngest of his class, he received the second appoint- 
ment. He united with the West Parish Church, and at twenty- 
one he was chosen one of the deacons, an office which he held 
nearly forty years. He began the study of theology with an older 
brother, Rev. Timothy Dickinson, of Holliston, Mass., intending 
to enter the ministry. But finding he needed a more active life, he 
turned his attention to the legal profession, and after the usual term 
of study, established a law office in his native place. 

In 1827 he was chosen representative of the town in the general 
court, and subsequently a member of the Massachusetts Senate. 

He was ranked among the best lawyers — perhaps he was the very 
best lawyer in Hampshire County — and might doubtless have had 
a seat on the bench if he had continued in the practice of his 
profession. 

Having a family of five sons and four daughters to educate, and at 
the same time having at heart the general welfare, he, with a few 
others, established the academy at Amherst. He started the subscrip- 
tion for it. And this academy was the mother of Amherst College, 
and the college was expressly owing to his suggestion and influence. 
His steadfastness, perseverance, the self-sacrificing devotion of his 
time, property, and personal service, gave it success. 

As the work of erecting the first building of the college proceeded, 
and all the available means were used up, Mr. Dickinson would pledge 
his private property to the bank to obtain money that the work might 
go on. And when there was no money to pay for the teams to draw 
the brick, or men to drive them, his own horses were sent for days 
and weeks till in one season two or three of them fell by the wayside. 
Sometimes his own laborers were sent to drive his horses, and in an 
emergency he went himself rather than the work should cease. At 
the same time he boarded more or less of the workmen, and some- 
times paid their wages out of his own pocket, while his wife and 



SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. 



119 



daughters toiled to board them. With all the zeal and efforts of 
numerous friends and benefactors, the work would often have stopped 
had he not pledged his property till the money could be raised. His 
own means at last began to fail. His business, which was so large as 
to require all his time and care, suffered from his devotion to the 
public. He became embarrassed, and at length actually poor. And 
in his poverty he had the additional grief of feeling that his services 
were forgotten, like the poor wise man in the proverb who " by his 
wisdom delivered the city, yet no man remembered that same wise 
man." 

When Lane Seminary went into operation he was offered a situation 
as steward, with the oversight and general management of the grounds. 

He accepted it and remained at Cincinnati several years, and then 
accepted a similar situation in connection with the Western Reserve 
College, at Hudson, Ohio. After a year of great labor and many 
discouragements, he died at Hudson, April 22, 1838, at the age of 
sixty-two, in the full possession of his faculties, and in the precious 
hope of rest and reward in heaven. His body lies in the cemetery at 
Amherst by the side of the wife of his youth, amid the graves of his 
relatives and friends, and within sight of the college which he so loved 
and cherished, and to which he devoted so many years of his life. 

The last time I ever saw Squire Dickinson was as we 
were taking our leave of the paternal home after the wed- 
ding ceremony. As he helped his daughter into the car- 
riage, he turned to me and said : — 

" I wish I was able to give a fortune with my daughter, 
but I am sure you will find a fortune in her." 

And for the more than fifty-three years we were per- 
mitted to walk together in the most endearing of all earthly 
relations I did, indeed, find a fortune in her. 

A small company of relatives and friends accompanied 
us in carriages about ten miles to a public house in Belch- 
ertown, where they provided a lunch, and then, with their 
kind wishes and farewells and benedictions, left us to 
pursue our journey. After visiting my old home in Sutton., 
and friends in several other places we made our way to 



I 20 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

friends in Boston! I purchased a new chaise and a fine 
orthodox horse at Andover, and thus equipped we jour- 
neyed to our new home in Portland. 

After spending three weeks in introducing to various 
friends the stranger I had brought among them, I left her, 
"a stranger in a strange land," for three weeks' labors in 
the western counties of the state. My first night was 
passed in the town of Buxton with the Rev. Mr. Lowing, 
pastor of the Congregational church in that town. A 
somewhat amusing incident occurred in connection with 
this visit. As was the practice very generally in those 
days in Christian families, they had worship both morning 
and evening, with reading of the Scriptures. At evening 
worship the twenty-third chapter of Deuteronomy was 
read. In reading the twenty-fourth chapter — showing 
that they were reading in course — in the morning, the 
fifth verse read thus : " When a man hath taken a new 
wife, he shall not go out to war, neither shall he be charged 
with any business ; but he shall be free at home one year, 
and shall cheer up his wife which he hath taken." This 
was, under the circumstances, surely a very singular coin- 
cidence. I inquired, after prayers, if I was not going 
counter to the Scriptures, and if I ought not to return to 
my wife. Such a return, I found at the end of my tour, 
would have cheered up a very lonely bride in that strange 
city. 

I had, in my previous year and a half's labor, visited 
almost every town in the state. Every-where, among cler- 
gymen and laymen, there was manifested the most cordial 
hospitality. All were frank and open-hearted ; and the 
interest the ministers felt in my work secured for me a 
special welcome to every parsonage. 

The clergyman's house, in those days, was indeed 



SABBA TH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. I 2 I 

regarded as the minister's tavern. It was open to all 
clergymen. Now and then a minister would be found who 
would call on a perfect stranger for hospitality, giving very 
strange reasons. One who had been traveling in Maine 
called on a pastor of one of the large churches in Massa- 
chusetts for entertainment during the night ; and he gave 
as a reason for taking such liberty that "he met his 
brother one day, as they both stopped at the same trough 
to water their horses." That was many years ago, and 
such hospitality is not expected at the present day. 

The following extract from a letter written during my 
three weeks' tour in the western part of the state, spoken 
of above, will show the earnestness and cordiality with 
which the ministers entered into my work among them : — 

The ministers here have almost torn me in pieces. I could not 
satisfy their wishes for my labors among their people if I could divide 
myself into twenty agents. To-morrow they are to meet, and then I 
shall say to them : " Here I am at your disposal for three weeks. Use 
me just as you can agree. 11 In this way they must assume all the 
blame, if blame there be, if I do not visit all the places where they 
may wish my services. 

It is exceedingly gratifying to me to hear the ministers and others 
speak of the number of hopeful conversions and the happy results 
which have followed my meetings among their people last year. How 
much grace I do need ! Do not forget me in your prayers. 

On my return to Portland I found that our home was 
not quite what was expected. So, with a small and com- 
pact outfit, we made our home for several months in our 
chaise, traveling sixteen hundred miles through almost 
the whole state, east of Portland, down to Sebec, Eastport, 
and Calais, with only the St. Croix River separating us 
from British territory. 

Over all this ground I had been the year before, visiting 
nearly every town and village, and every-where the greatest 



12 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

interest had been expressed in my work, and wherever I 
had made my home for a day the warm-hearted, hospitable 
inmates most cordially invited me to come again and be 
sure to bring my " better half " with me, so I knew just 
where to stop in every place we visited. And my better half 
became a fellow-helper in the work, pleading the Sabbath- 
school cause with the mothers and children at home, while 
I was holding meetings and laboring among the people 
outside. Sometimes she was left for a day or two, while 
I branched off into several adjoining towns or districts. 
At Calias she was left in a pleasant and hospitable family, 
while a Mr. Nash, an earnest Sunday-school man of the 
place, and myself, on horseback (for there were no roads 
for a carriage), visited Princeton, Alexander, Crofordville, 
and several other places back in the new country ; and 
held meetings and organized a new school in every place 
we visited. 

In Princeton there were about seventy-five inhabitants, 
scattered along a road for a mile or more. I called at 
every house and gave notice of a meeting to be held at a 
small school-house at two o'clock in the afternoon, where 
I was to give an address on Sabbath-schools, and if the 
people became interested, organize one in their town. The 
wash-tubs and every thing else in the houses and on the 
farms with which the people were engaged at work were at 
once put aside ; and all the inhabitants, except the mothers 
with little ones, were at the meeting. After my address, 
in which all seemed interested, I requested " all who wish 
to have a Sabbath-school organized, to rise," when all but 
three young men arose. We aided in choosing the super- 
intendent and teachers for the school, which was to begin 
the next Sabbath. 

After explaining the whole manner of conducting the 
school, Mr. Nash told them about a library and informed 



SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. I 23 

them if they would raise five dollars, the Sabbath-school 
friends in Calais had authorized him to say that they would 
obtain for them ten dollars' worth of good books. And the 
money was at once raised on the spot. In one of the 
other places we visited, Mr. . Nash, instead of saying, as he 
meant to have said, that the Calais friends would raise five 
dollars for the library, if they would raise the same, sai 1 
that " the Calais friends would raise as much as they 
would." They raised on the spot fifteen dollars, and the 
Calais friends could not back out, so the new school 
obtained a fine thirty dollar library. 

This autumn journey of sixteen hundred miles, while 
full of pleasure to the laborers, was apparently full of 
interest and profit to the people visited. 

This was the only time, in all my life-work in Sunday- 
school, that I have ever presumed to take any of my family 
with me. 

Among the interesting incidents connected with our 
journeyings may be mentioned the following: — 

We had an interesting experience in a visit to the then 
new town of Weld, where the Abbott family for awhile 
made their home. The road for miles was new and rough 
and through extensive woods where the fires had swept, 
and many of the trees were leafless and dead. There 
came up a high wind. We were riding with the chaise 
turned back, and were in no small apprehension lest some 
of the dead trees might fall upon us. Soon we came to a 
tree, a foot or so through, that had just fallen directly 
across our way. There was no getting round it, and we 
had no axe. Having lightened the chaise of its load, I 
carefully led the horse over the tree, then turning him one 
side, succeeded in rolling one wheel over, without capsiz- 
ing the carriage, and then turning him the other way, 
rolled the other wheel over. 



124 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

Weld we found one of the most picturesque townships 
we had visited in Maine. There were high hills, or 
broken ridges of mountains, on all sides, excepting on the 
south, by which we entered. It appeared like a vast crater 
of a volcano, about twelve miles in diameter, in which 
quietly reposed the town. 

It is well known that the Abbott familv have ever been 
noted for their literary character. And almost every spot 
in this town bore marks of it in the classical names they 
had given. The beautiful lake in the center of the valley 
was called Loch Lomond ; there was Lee Meadow, the 
Dingle, and the Ben Venue High School. There was no 
high school, but there was a fine eminence where they 
proposed that a high school should some time be located. 

It was said that the members of the Congregational 
church and society were all on one side of the lake, 
and the Baptists on the other, so that, not " a great 
gulf," but "much water," separated them. 

Our visit to this romantic town, our meetings in the 
different societies and districts, and our most hospitable 
entertainment for some days at the model home of Esquire 
Abbott, the honored father of these distinguished literary 
sons, are among our most vivid and pleasant recollections 
of the State of Maine in those long years ago. 

Our last year in Maine we boarded in the family of the 
late Mrs. Payson, widow of the late Rev. Dr. Payson, 
whose memory we found most fragrant among all the 
members of his church and society. 

In the family of Mrs. Payson were her two daughters, 
Louise, afterwards the wife of the late Professor Hopkins, 
of Williams College, and Elizabeth, afterwards Mrs. 
Prentiss, and author of " Stepping Heavenward " and 
several other excellent works. 



SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. 



!25 



After two years and eight months of almost unin- 
termitted labor, I became pretty thoroughly tired, not 
of my work, but in it. I had been almost constantly on 
the wing, and, like Noah's dove, " found no rest for the 
sole of my foot." I had traveled between seven and 
eight thousand miles (five thousand of it with my own 
horse) ; preached and given addresses about eight hundred 
and fifty times ; visited more than a thousand different 
families ; attended between fifty and sixty public meetings 
and numerous meetings of committees for consultation. 
A portion of the time I conducted the correspondence 
of the Board of Managers, prepared their reports, etc. 

At the end of this term of almost three years I 
addressed to the Board a communication, resigning my 
connection with the Maine Sabbath-School Union. In 
answer to this communication, the Board unanimously 
adopted the following action, January 7, 1834: — 

Rev. Asa Bullard, — While we regret that you feel it to be your 
duty to terminate your services as general agent of the Maine Sabbath- 
School Union, it affords us the highest pleasure to express to you our 
entire approbation of your devoted labors in behalf of the Sabbath- 
school cause in Maine, and our deep sense of the value and faithful- 
ness of your services. 

You will carry with you wherever you may labor in the cause of 
Christ our best wishes, and our fervent prayers for your success. 

Permit us to commend you to the friendship and good offices of all 
Christians among whom you may be called, in the providence of God, 
to labor. 

By order of the Board of Managers, 

A. Richardson, President. 
William Cutter, Secretary. 

After being, as I thought, providentially led to give up 
my early plan of engaging in missionary work in Africa, 
I became greatly interested in the inviting field for 
Christian work at the great west. Indeed, I went to 



126 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

Maine, as a good friend suggested, as the " most direct 
way to the west." A year or two of this Sabbath-school 
work in Maine, it was thought, would be the best prepara- 
tion for what I then supposed was to be the scene of my 
life-work. 

Just before resigning my connection with the Maine 
Sabbath-School Union, as mentioned above, Rev. Stephen 
Peet, agent of the American Seamen's Friend Society, 
for the inland and western waters, under date of Cleveland, 
Ohio, November 26, 1833, wrote a long letter in regard 
to his work, from which I give the following extracts : — 

Dear Brother, — Having learned that your thoughts have been 
turned towards the west, I wish to direct your attention to a field of use- 
fulness to which, I am informed by your friends, you are in a good 
degree adapted — a field long neglected, but vastly important, and which 
is now white for the harvest. I refer to the inland waters of our 
country and the multitudes of seamen and boatmen who are engaged 
upon these waters. 

After giving a minute account of the great need of 
Christian labor among this interesting class, and of what 
had already been accomplished in erecting chapels and 
employing preachers, establishing libraries and schools for 
their benefit, he says : — 

The chaplain at Cleveland will be the pastor of a congregation reach- 
ing through the center of this state, a distance of 343 miles, and over 
all Lake Erie, from Buffalo to Detroit. There is a population of 
perhaps two or three hundred in the vicinity of the water who, perhaps, 
never entered a place of worship, to be looked up and brought out. 
There are all the boatmen on the canal to be visited and furnished with 
Bibles, etc., and the hundreds and thousands of travelers and emi- 
grants who are filling up the great valley. 

The question now, dear brother, is, Will you enter this field and 
engage in the business of preaching and laboring among the seamen 
and boatmen of the western waters? I have conversed with your 



SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK IN MAINE. 



127 



brother at Cincinnati [my brother was then district secretary of the 
American Board of Foreign Missions for the valley of the Mississippi] 
on the subject. He says he thinks you will come, and that you ought 
to come. I wish you to occupy the station at Cincinnati, Cleveland, 
Buffalo, or Louisville, to be determined after your arrival, etc. 

This seemed to me a "Macedonian call," and I readily 
took it into serious consideration ; and when I had so far 
accepted it that Mr. Peet probably supposed I was on the 
way thither, I was most unexpectedly "let " at Boston by a 
call to what has proved to be my life-work, to become the 
secretary and general agent of the Massachusetts Sabbath- 
school Society, now called the Congregational Sunday- 
School and Publishing Society. 

After very serious and prayerful consideration, and 
much marveling at the manner in which providence had 
several times so obviously disposed of what I proposed, I 
accepted the invitation and entered upon the service for 
the Society March 1, 1834. And the work has been to 
me most congenial ; and I have not since, during all these 
years, desired for one moment any other field of Chris- 
tian labor. Not that there may not be more important 
ones, yet for me none more promising. In no other field 
is one brought so closely into connection with home life. 
In no work does the laborer meet with warmer sympathy 
than that connected with parents and children. 



CHAPTER XII. 

MY CONNECTION WITH THE CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY- 
SCHOOL AND PUBLISHING SOCIETY. 

MY life-work, for fifty-four years prior to the first of 
March, 1888, has really been with the Congrega- 
tional Sunday-School and Publishing Society. And a brief 
summary of this work may be interesting before entering 
upon the details. 

There is not a person now connected with any of the 
offices of the Society, or the Board of Managers, nor 
among the employees, who was connected with the 
Society in any way when I entered upon my labors for 
it, March 1, 1834. 

In my work as general agent for nearly fifty-seven 
years, including my three years in Maine, I have made 
over 4,000 visits in 1,300 towns and parishes, preached and 
given addresses 7,729 times, and traveled about 300,000* 
miles, not including a tour of three months in Europe.. 
With the exception of three western tours, all this traveL 
has been in comparatively short journeys, mostly in New 
England. I have attended annually more or less public 
meetings, state and county conferences and associations of 
churches, Sabbath-school conventions, festivals, etc., in 
different parts of the country. In connection with these 
visits, I have probably addressed more than two million 
persons, perhaps more than eight hundred thousand dif- 
ferent persons, and a large portion of them many times. 

In my connection with this Society I edited every 
number of its monthly periodical, The. Sabhath-ScJiooC 

128 




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CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. I 29 

Visitor for ten years ; was assistant editor of The Con- 
gregational Visitor for three years ; and edited, or pre- 
pared, every number of its weekly periodical, The Well- 
Spring, over forty years, till April 25, 1884. For many 
years over sixty thousand copies of The Well-Spring per 
week were published. 

I was the corresponding and recording secretary of the 
Society, of the Board of Managers, and of the Sabbath- 
school Publishing Committee, and for several years of the 
Theological Publishing Committee also. I prepared, while 
acting Secretary, all but five or six of the annual reports 
of the Society, and all the quarterly reports of the Sabbath- 
school Committee and the Committee on Agencies. I 
wrote numerous circulars, letters to Sabbath-schools and 
juvenile societies, and other public documents. For sev- 
eral years I read all the manuscripts for books, prepared 
those that were accepted by the committees for publication 
for the press, and read all the proofs. 

To every Sabbath-school that would contribute to the 
Society from twenty-five to one hundred and fifty dollars 
annually for its missionary work we promised a letter to be 
read at its concert. These letters were from our mission- 
aries or Sabbath-school friends, or I wrote them myself. 
From one hundred to one hundred and fifty copies of these 
letters were sent every month to as many schools. This 
was continued for eighty concerts. I wrote or compiled for 
publication by the Society about forty of its i8mo books, 
containing over four thousand pages ; thirty-six 32mo 
booksi containing eight hundred pages ; and numerous 
cards. I made it my duty and pleasure to perform what- 
ever other labors I could make of service to the Society in 
its work in behalf of the cause of Sabbath-schools. 

At the end of forty years a new Secretary was appointed, 



I3O INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

and I was chosen Honorary Secretary and relieved from 
a large portion of my accustomed labors. A committee 
of the Board of Managers, of which the Rev. J. H. 
Means, d.d., of Dorchester, was chairman, appointed to 
consider the case of the former Secretary, reported, May 
14, 1875, as follows: — 

That the Board recall with gratitude the earnest and effective labors 
of the former Secretary, who for forty-one years has stood before the 
churches as a prominent advocate of the Sabbath-school cause, and 
has stimulated by his addresses a great multitude of teachers and 
scholars in all parts of the land. 

That, although his relations to the Society are now changed by the 
appointment of another as Secretary, it is desirable that his services 
be still retained in presenting the work and claims of the Society 
before Sabbath-schools and churches as opportunity may permit, and 
in rendering such other service as the Board may direct ; and that his 
title be Honorary Secretary. 

My services commenced with the Society in its infancy. 
It was organized May 31, 1832, and I prepared the annual 
report for the second anniversary, May 29, 1834. At the 
close of the first year, ending May 30, 1833, tne whole 
business of the Depository was less than eight thousand 
dollars. 

The objects of the Society, according to the second 
article of its constitution, were "to promote the opening 
of new, and the increase and prosperity of the existing, 
Sabbath-schools ; to form depositories for supplying Sab- 
bath-schools with suitable books, on the lowest terms 
possible ; to stimulate and encourage each other in the 
moral and religious instruction of children and others " ; 
so that the Society commenced organizing new Sabbath- 
schools and aiding destitute ones, especially at the west, 
from its beginning ; and the amount of donations from the 
Sunday-schools for this purpose for the first year was 
$690.47. 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 131 

At the close of forty years, when a new Secretary was 
appointed, the business of the Depository for the previous 
year was not far from $140,000. The amount of donations 
for our benevolent work was over $8,000, and it was dis- 
tributed in books and papers in three hundred and thirty- 
three different needy places. » 

During these forty years it is estimated that the busi- 
ness of the Society was at least $2,500,000, and the amount 
of charitable contributions that the Society expended, 
mostly in books and periodicals for organizing and main- 
taining Sabbath-schools, at least $200,000. 

The missionary work of the Society, in visiting and 
organizing schools, till within a few years was almost 
wholly through voluntary agents. Home missionaries 
were ready to do this work within a reasonable distance 
from their churches, if the Society would provide them 
with the libraries and Sabbath-school helps that were 
needed. Some missionaries, with their helps, organized 
and sustained six or eight schools. One missionary vol- 
untarily visited several counties around his especial field 
of labor, and organized over thirty new schools. 

For several years the Society employed six or eight paid 
missionaries, among whom was the well-known lay evan- 
gelist, Mr. K. A. Burnell. And the annual reports of the 
Society will show that a most important work was accom- 
plished from year to year. 

The great difficulty in this part of our work was the 
want of funds. A large part of the schools that contrib- 
uted to the Society wished their contributions to go to 
specific schools, so that they could receive letters from the 
schools aided. 

I have now a letter from the late Rev. Henry Ward 
Beecher, dated Lawrenceburg, Ind., January 25, 1838, 



1 3 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

acknowledging the gift of a library from the Society for 
his Sabbath-school, which he superintended. This letter 
was to be sent to the schools that contributed the money. 

The Shorter Catechism. 

In 1835 I came across a book entitled "Anecdotes on 
the Shorter Catechism." As the study of this catechism, 
so common in my early days, seemed to have died out, I 
conceived the plan of publishing one question of the cate- 
chism with the answer, the proof-texts, and one of the 
anecdotes in this book, in The Sabbath-School Visitor each 
month, in order to revive, if possible, the study of this 
catechism of my childhood. I had published only two or 
three questions before letters began to come, asking, 
" What has become of the catechism ? Why is it not 
studied, as formerly, in our families and schools ? " 

About this time the late Rev. David Sanford, then 
pastor of the Congregational church in Dorchester village, 
offered, if our Society would publish a cheap edition of the 
catechism, to take five hundred copies. In about two 
weeks the Society published five thousand. A short time 
after this we published it with the proof-texts ; then we 
published the " New England Primer," and then a book 
called " Exercises on the Shorter Catechism." 

Soon a very general interest was awakened on the sub- 
ject in families and in Sabbath-schools. Superintendents 
and pastors began to offer Bibles to all who would commit 
it to memory. In many cases more than a hundred Bibles 
were required to meet the offer. It cost the superintend- 
ent of a school in West Springfield, Mass., over seventy- 
five dollars to redeem his pledge. Within fifteen years the 
Society published and sold, in its various forms, probably 
not less than half a million copies of the catechism. The 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. I 33 

influence I was thus providentially permitted to exert, in 
reviving the study of this excellent compendium of truth, 
I regard as among the most important events of my life. 

Visit of One Thousand Teachers to New York. 

In August, 1855, the governors of some of the public 
charitable institutions in New York invited the Sabbath- 
school teachers in Massachusetts to visit Blackwell's and 
Randall's Islands. It was regarded as a religious enter- 
prise, undertaken with a view to advance the kingdom of 
Christ. After many meetings for consultation and due 
arrangement, about one thousand teachers embarked on 
a steamer on Monday afternoon, September 24, for New 
York. 

After breakfast and a few exercises, almost two thou- 
sand children from the various asylums and other institu- 
tions for orphans, half-orphans, the friendless, the deaf 
and dumb, etc., who are supported by the charities of 
New York, were gathered at the palace. The children 
of the different institutions were all arranged in squares 
like patchwork, by themselves, and all arrayed in the 
dresses peculiar to each institution. One square I called 
" polished ebony " because it was composed of colored 
children. 

At this meeting, which was attended by the Sunday- 
school superintendents and teachers of New York and 
Brooklyn, and many of the clergymen and members of 
the churches, there were addresses of welcome, responses, 
etc. 

One of the most interesting scenes of the occasion 
was the appearance before the great audience of Bessy 
Rourke, — a little child of about six years of age, — who 
gave a " History of the Five Points Mission," and pointed 



134 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

out the picture of the famous Old Brewery of that 
locality. At the close of the beautiful and affecting 
address of this little girl, I was called upon to respond. 

The reception given to the visitors from Boston, our 
visits to the various asylums and reformatory institutions, 
our meeting with the Sabbath-school friends in Brooklyn, 
and all the addresses were full of interest and inspiration. 

Every thing connected with this event was adapted to 
magnify the influence and importance of the institution 
we represented. 

This visit of one thousand teachers to New York led to 
the holding of Sunday-school conventions, which have 
now become so common. 

Visits to the Army. 

The Congregational Sunday-School and Publishing 
Society, in connection with various other benevolent and 
philanthropic organizations, during our late war engaged 
in the work of furnishing the soldiers with reading. The 
Society prepared a box of six books in uniform style, 
called " The Soldier's Library," of which large numbers 
were sent to the army. I compiled a book called " The 
Soldier's Diary," and a " Book for Leisure Moments," that 
was widely distributed among the soldiers. Some very 
interesting cases were reported where fallen soldiers were 
identified by this book found in their possession. I also 
edited half a dozen small 32mo books : " The Discharged 
Soldier," " Hope for the Lost," "Colonel Armine Moun- 
tain," " Rest for the Soul," etc., which were published by 
the Society and widely circulated in the army. 

I made two visits to the Potomac and James River 
armies for the purpose of gathering information that would 
aid me in presenting the subject of "reading for the 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 1 35 

soldiers " to the churches, and taking collections for the 
object. The Christian Commission gave me a commission 
that permitted me to visit the different armies as a 
preacher, while gathering the desired information. 

In my first visit I was in Washington at the time of the 
second inauguration of President Lincoln. I spent a day 
at Annapolis among the five hundred officers and fifteen 
hundred soldiers who had just arrived from their sufferings 
in Salisbury Prison. 

In the evening a large number of them left, on a fur- 
lough, to visit their friends, mostly in New England, and 
I started with them. At Philadelphia we changed cars, 
and I tried to get into one of the last two cars, filled with 
soldiers. I wanted to be with them and help to cheer 
them on the way. But the cars were so full no place could 
be found. 

About two o'clock on that disastrous night, we overtook 
a disabled engine of a freight train. While we were thus 
detained, and, as it was said, "with no signal out," we 
were run into by an express train. The last two cars were 
telescoped and the engine of the express train was driven 
two thirds through those cars, mangling the poor soldiers 
most fearfully. A large number were killed or wounded ! 
We had to break through the cars with axes to get the 
soldiers out, and their overcoats were saturated with the 
scalding steam in which they were enveloped. It was the 
most heart-rending scene I ever witnessed, and, but for 
the ordering of a kind providence, I should have been 
among the sufferers. How strange that those poor sol- 
diers, who had just escaped the horrors of a rebel prison, 
should so soon meet such a fearful scene of mutilation and 
death ! 

In connection with this visit, with some thirty members 



I36 INCIDENTS IN A B US Y LIFE. 

of Congress and others, I had the pleasure of visiting our 
soldiers at Bud's Ferry, and dining with General Hooker. 
We went in the steamer Yankee, the flag-boat of the 
Potomac flotilla, as far as Mattawoman Creek. There we 
took a smaller boat called the Stepping Stone, often men- 
tioned in connection with the war. From there we were 
carried to General Hooker's quarters, several miles in 
wagons over a new corduroy road. While going up the 
Mattawoman Creek, we could see the smoke of the rebel 
camp three miles distant at Cockpit Point. While looking 
at it, we saw the smoke and heard the report of two shots 
from that camp. On reaching Bud's Ferry, I found that a 
shell had fallen within twenty rods of the First Massachu- 
setts Regiment ; the shell which I saw did not burst. 
The second shell burst very near the Eleventh Massachu- 
setts, and I have a piece of it which I brought home as a 
relic. At the dress parade of the First Massachusetts, 
Colonel Cowden called on me for an address, in which I 
gave as one reason for not going into the war, my fear 
that the rebels would mistake my white head for a flag 
of truce. 

This visit was on a Saturday, and on Sunday morning it 
was found that the rebels had fled. 

In my visit to the James army I had the pleasure of 
lunching with the commanding officer, General Devens, 
and several of his staff officers. It was the day of the 
capture of Wilmington. The general issued a proclama- 
tion of the fact to his soldiers, and ordered a salute 
on the good news. He gave me the privilege of carrying 
the order, on my way to the colored regiments of his 
army. The colored troops received the news with the 
most uproarious excitement and enthusiasm, and cried 
out : — 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 137 

" Bres the Lord ! — Wish it was Richmond ! " 

I visited Bermuda Hundred, at one time the headquarters 
of General Butler, and also the famous Dutch Gap. The 
agent of the Sanitary Commission, who kindly loaned me 
his horse to visit this noted spot, requested me to leave 
the horse some distance from the gaps, as rebels two or 
three miles off were wont to throw shells if they saw 
visitors there. So while I went and examined the place, I 
hitched the horse out of danger. 

At Deep Bottom I spent a very dark and stormy night 
alone in a tent of the Sanitary Commission, which was 
within a few miles of Richmond, and where was often 
heard the guns of those on picket. A part of this night 
I spent writing my " Editorial Correspondence," for 
The Well-Spring. During this visit I traveled about fifteen 
hundred miles ; preached or gave addresses in chapels of 
the Christian Commission, in hospitals, gunboats, and 
schools of the freedmen, sixteen times ; and held personal 
conversations with soldiers in the cars, steamboats, hospi- 
tals, camps, forts, and by the wayside. 

It was very pleasant to me in both of these visits to 
meet so many of the colored people at Washington and 
other places, and to attend their meetings and listen to 
their strange and excited manner of worship. At a meet- 
ing in Washington, I heard three men and three women 
pray. They were very fervent, and all made use of the 
same expressions ; as that " the Lord would come over 
the mountains of their sins," and that they might not 
" get within gun-shot of the devil." One young woman, 
who was quite diffident, prayed for her sister, that the 
Lord would help her in bringing up her children ; and 
then she prayed for her husband, " that we may dwell 
together like two loving doves upon the same bough." 



I 3 8 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

At first I said to myself : " Though that is a beautiful 
expression, it is not a good figure, because doves never 
light on boughs ; " but in a moment it occurred to me, 
"This means the turtle-doves," of which the woods at the 
South are full. 

Very soon after my second visit, Richmond fell and the 
war was closed, and all the interesting facts I had gathered 
were now, of course, of no avail in my work. 

International Sunday-School Convention. 

In May, 1875, I had the pleasure of attending and 
taking part in an international Sunday-school convention 
at Baltimore. The most popular Sunday-school speakers 
of the country and of the Provinces and Europe were 
present, and during the three days' sessions, subjects of 
great practical interest were discussed. 

My Interest in Children. 

I have always felt a peculiar interest in children. I 
never meet them by the way or in public conveyances with- 
out feeling myself drawn towards them. My custom for 
many years has been to have cards and little books to 
present to such as I have the opportunity. And it is now 
a very common thing to meet men and women, in all cir- 
cumstances in life, who remind me of a little book or card 
they received from me when they were children. And 
many a one often adds with interest : " And I have got it 
yet." 

It has always seemed very strange that little ones, 
when well-behaved, can be repulsive to any one. Some 
years ago I had a correspondence with a woman on this 
subject, which was so peculiar that the substance of it 
may interest others. 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. I 39 

In an address at a Sabbath-school convention, I ex- 
pressed interest in the young by saying I thought 
heaven would be a poor place for one to live who did not 
love children. About a fortnight afterwards a young 
woman, an entire stranger, who happened to be present, 
having learned my name and address, wrote me a letter. 
Having repeated the above remark, she said : — 

Now, Mr. Bullard, I do not love children. They are repulsive to me 
as a general thing, and I want to ask you if, on that account, I must 
be excluded from that happy place? I read in the Bible, " Repent and 
believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved." Nothing is 
there said about loving children as being essential to salvation. Since 
I was a child myself I have wished to have as little to do with 
children as possible. I have been told that I ought to cultivate a love 
for children, but what would such a love amount to? With me, love 
for any one must spring up spontaneously within me, or is good for 
nothing. Perhaps it is wrong for me to feel like this, but what can I 
do? I merely ask, as a great favor, that you will write me a few 
words in explanation of what you said. I must, indeed, despair of 
salvation if that is one of the conditions. 

In reply to this strange letter, among other things 
I said : — 

Must not heaven be a poor place for people who do not love 
children, unless their feelings are changed? Suppose angels and 
saints are here " repulsive" to a person. Unless there is a change of 
feeling in this respect, would not heaven — where there will be so 
many saints and angels — be a " poor place " for that person? 

There will certainly be multitudes of children in heaven. The 
Saviour says, " Of such is the kingdom of heaven ; " and " Except ye 
repent and become as little children " — as those that are so ' ' repulsive " 
to you — "ye cannot see the kingdom of God." Then, it is said, 
"Unless we have the Spirit of Christ we are none of his." But Christ 
loved little children, and took them in his arms and blessed them. 
They were not repulsive to him. He was displeased with his disciples, 
to whom they were so ' ' repulsive " that they rebuked those who brought 
them to him that he might bless them. 



1 40 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

I did not say that any one would be excluded from that happy 
place on account of not loving children ; but only that it would be a 
" poor place " for such. If children are " repulsive " to you, and you 
"wish to have as little to do with them as possible,' 1 I should think 
you would want the Saviour, who is preparing a place among the 
"many mansions" for his people, to prepare one for you, with "No 
admittance to children " on the door, to make it really heaven 
to you. 

Would not a conservatory or a flower-garden be a poor place for 
one who does not love flowers — to whom they are " repulsive "PI can 
as readily conceive of a person who does not love flowers as one who 
does not love children. 

I said at that Sabbath-school meeting that do floral exhibition 
could be more beautiful than that crowd of smiling, happy children. 
Can it be that those children were "repulsive" to you? Was that a 
repulsive scene when they sung so sweetly those beautiful songs ? 

When I speak of children in heaven of course I mean well-behaved 
children, and I do not know that any others are ever admitted to that 
blissful home. 

What a world this would be without any children ! It 
would be like blotting out all of the stars from our evening 
skies, and like sweeping away every sweet flower from the 
meadows and the hillsides. 

The prophet, in speaking of the new Jerusalem, says 
that " the streets were full of boys and girls playing in 
the streets thereof." 

Old People s Day. 

Rev. Wm. J. Batt, late of Stoneham, Mass., now chap- 
lain at the Reformatory, Concord, used to have once a year 
what he called " Old People's Day." All the old people of 
his congregation and, indeed, of the town were invited to 
his church at an afternoon service especially for them. 
Mr. Batt usually invited some elderly minister to be with 
him and take part in the services of the day. 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 141 

At the "Old People's Day" in 1881, I was invited to 
be with Mr. Batt. The house was quite full on the occa- 
sion. There were sixty people present who were over 
sixty years of age, and twenty-five who were eighty years 
of age or more. A bouquet was presented to each of these 
twenty-five. They arose, as their names were called, and 
received the bouquets as they were presented by the hands 
of children. At the close of the meeting one of those 
addressed said : " It knocked twenty years right off from 
my age." 

Perhaps it may not be improper to give the following 
account of the services of that day, which Mr. Batt 
published : — 

The day passed very pleasantly indeed. Rev. Mr. Bullard's ser- 
mon in the forenoon was upon the true method and spirit of studying 
the Bible, in order to the growth of noble character. It was one of 
the most remarkable sermons preached in any pulpit that day, we ven- 
ture to say. The preacher was seventy-seven years old and in no way that 
we could see asking the least indulgence of his hearers on account of 
his age. There was indeed only the least possible suggestion that he 
was old. His hair was abundant, white and not gray. Quite tall in 
figure, he stood up almost like an arrow for straightness. . . . His voice 
was clear and strong and was heard easily every- where in the house. 
Emphasis vigorous, matter excellent, style finished. The sermon was 
delivered without any notes and yet was reasonably brief. Mr. Bul- 
lard's address in the afternoon was very felicitous. 

A good audience was present in the evening to hear Mr. Bullard's 
account of the World's Sabbath-school Convention in London, to 
which he was a delegate. It was full of instruction and was very 
greatly enjoyed. 

After reaching home at night, Mr. Bullard was asked if he would 
take a cup of tea, or what he would like for refreshments. The old 
man of seventy-seven, who had taught a Bible class and spoken at 
three services, replied : " Nothing, unless it is another meeting." 

Almost all of this long ministerial life has been spent in the Sabbath- 
school work. Young people come up in sets. We may reckon five 
years to a set. Youth do not go much beyond that limit of difference 



I42 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY IIFE. 

of ages in their intimate associations. As often as once in about that 
period of time a new set of young folks comes upon the stage. In this 
way of reckoning, Mr. Bullard, as a writer of books, as an editor, as a 
director on a large scale of the religious instruction of the young, has 
powerfully molded five or ten generations of youth ! What a life to 
look back upon ! What a life for other men to honor ! And not really 
old yet ! 

Fiftieth Anniversary. 

At the regular quarterly meeting of the managers of 

the Society the following action was taken : — 

On the first day of March, 1884, our revered and beloved father, 
Rev. Asa Bullard, reached the fiftieth anniversary of his election to 
office in this Society. The length of his term of service is believed 
to be unprecedented in the history of similar Sunday-school and 
publishing organizations. The Board of Managers, therefore, desire, 
first of all, to recognize devoutly the good hand of our God upon his 
servant, and to give thanks for that gracious providence which raised 
up, so early in the history of Sunday-schools, a man richly endowed 
with gifts of mind and heart for the twofold and difficult work of 
providing a proper Sunday-school literature, and of awakening an 
intelligent and profound interest throughout and beyond New England 
in the religious education of the young. The members of the Board 
also desire to extend to Mr. Bullard their fraternal and hearty con- 
gratulations upon his completion of so protracted a period of service, 
and, speaking not only for themselves, but also for the thousands of 
Christian people to whom his name is familiar as a household word, 
to assure him of their appreciation of his eminently faithful, wise, and 
successful labors through all these years for Christ and his kingdom, 
Their prayer is that his youthfulness of spirit, which is still unabated, 
may be immortal, and that the favor of God, which has been so long 
and bountifully bestowed upon him, may be still more abundant and 
also everlasting. In view of the faithful labors of Mr. Bullard, con- 
tinued now for half a century in the service of this Society, the Board 
deem it fitting to adopt the following resolution : — 

Resolved, That Mr. Bullard deserves to be relieved, and for the 
future is relieved, of all editorial labor; but that he be retained in the 
service of this Society, and his salary be $600, with the request that 
he will continue, as opportunity is given him, to address Sunday- 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 



H3 



schools, churches, and other assemblies, in behalf of the work of the 
Congregational Sunday-School and Publishing Society. 

The editor of The Pilgrim Teacher, in referring to this 
action of the Board, says : — 

The case of Rev. Asa Bullard is doubtless unprecedented in the 
fact that he has now for fifty years been the official representative of 
a Sunday-school society, presenting its claims earnestly and effectively 
during all this period in the various pulpits of the denomination 
throughout the land, especially in New England. His services in this 
line are still in active demand, and there was a long period of years 
when the call for him from all directions was far greater than he could 
answer. Though now well advanced, he is still very active, and there 
are few men of any age who can perform such service more acceptably 
than he. Mr. Bullard has done and is still doing a great and impor- 
tant work. He keeps up with the times remarkably well, and always 
has a wonderful freshness for a man of his years. 

A pastor, in a local paper, writes under the following 
head : — 

A Veteran in Sunday-school Work. — March i, 1834, Rev. 
Asa Bullard was appointed Secretary of the Massachusetts Sabbath- 
School Society, now called the Congregational Sunday-School and 
Publishing Society. From that time till now he has been actively 
engaged in the service of the Society, giving the labors of a long life 
to advance the interest of Sunday-schools and the teaching of the 
Word of God. January 1, 1844, The Well-Spring was started, of 
which Mr. Bullard was the editor ; and he still assists in preparing 
its pages. Every number for forty years has passed through his hands. 
This continuous service of half a century has hardly a parallel in the 
history of benevolent societies. Fifty years of labor for children and 
youth, by voice and pen, is a privilege rarely granted to any one man. 
A generation has sprung up and passed away since he began his work. 
He is yet hale and vigorous, and his voice is often heard in the 
churches, where he is always welcome. This is written, of course, 
without his knowledge ; but we know that the many thousand boys 
and girls who have heard him speak, many of whom are gray-haired 
now, will wish for him yet many years of health and usefulness. 



1 44 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

Sunday-School Superintendents Union. 

Six or seven years ago the Congregational Sunday- 
schools of Boston and vicinity formed a union for mutual 
benefit. It includes superintendents, present and past,, 
and assistants. Meetings are held monthly. An hour 
is given to social intercourse, after which there is a 
collation ; then an hour and a half or two hours are 
spent in an opening devotional service and a discussion 
of some practical subject connected with the Sunday- 
school work. This is opened by a paper or address of 
about twenty minutes, by some one chosen by the execu- 
tive committee. These meetings are very stimulating 
and instructive. At the close of the spring meetings,, 
one is held in June, called the Ladies' Meeting, at which 
the members can invite their lady friends, and a public 
meeting in the church follows the collation, at which 
there are addresses usually by clergymen. 

At a meeting in 1883, the president invited me, as 
a guest, to be present. In the course of the meeting 
one of the members, after some pleasant remarks about 
a venerable man he used to know when a boy, moved 
that " Mr. Bullard be chosen as an honorary member 
of the Union." Another member seconded the motion 
with some very pleasant remarks, and I was chosen by a 
rising vote. 

This I regard as a great honor and as one of the most 
complimentary acts ever rendered me. After acting as 
chaplain at the table a year or two, I have been elected as 
" Chaplain of the Union for life " ! 

Sabbath-schools Forty Years Ago. 

The work of the farmer when I was a boy was a 
hand-to-hand work. There were none of the labor- 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 1 45 

saving machines and various facilities, now so numerous, 
• to lighten the toil of the husbandman. The fork then 
used was almost as much as a boy twelve years old could 
lift. Now that article is almost light and delicate enough 
for a table-fork. The farmer now rides to plow, to 
harrow, to sow, to reap, to mow, to rake, etc. 

The difference in the Sabbath-school work forty years 
ago and now is almost as great. Then it was truly a 
hand-to-hand work. There were no " helps over hard 
places," none of the numerous — perhaps too numerous — 
helps that are now provided for superintendents and 
teachers to make their work comparatively easy and 
efficient'. 

And yet any one who will examine my volume, " Fifty 
Years with the Sabbath-schools," will no doubt be as- 
tonished, as I was in preparing it, to see how little there 
is in the Sabbath-school work of to-day that is really 
new. A lady in Kansas writes : — 

" I have read your ' Fifty Years with the Sabbath- 
schools ' with both pleasure and profit, being constantly 
startled by the thought that what we are pleased to call 
'new methods ' are not new." 

Now, take the teachers' meeting. Forty years ago 
it was extensively observed, and was regarded as the 
thermometer of a school. It was not a meeting to 
study the lesson so much as to compare and harmonize 
views and aid each other in the best mode of teaching 
it to the scholars. A boy twelve years old wrote a com- 
position to be read at the concert, on " The Importance 
of the Teachers' Meeting," and illustrated his subject 
by the fact that one Sabbath he heard three teach- 
ers — his own, the one before him, and the one behind 
him — give three different answers to the same question ; 



1 46 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

and he thought they ought to come together and try to 
teach alike. 

The concert was extensively observed forty years ago, 
and was every-where spoken of as the largest and most 
interesting meeting held, as it is now. It was a meeting 
for prayer, singing, recitation of hymns and Scripture, 
and addresses. It was not so much an exhibition as it 
is in some schools at the present day ; but it was the 
children's meeting, and they came even from a distance 
the coldest winter evenings. As long ago as the concert 
was held on Monday evening, at East Boston ; on that 
evening there was a display of fireworks, firing of guns, 
etc., in the vicinity of the vestry, and yet most of the 
older pupils of the school, boys and girls, came in and 
were quietly seated through the whole exercises of the 
evening, apparently unmoved by the roar of the cannon 
and the blaze of the rockets without. We can hardly 
find an example of more interest in the concert at the 
present day. 

Forty years ago there was no exercise in which the 
children so much delighted as in singing. Yet there 
were then few hymn and tune books but those used 
in the church. In Taunton, a hymn suited to the 
capacities of the children was chalked on a blackboard 
— yes, a blackboard forty-five years ago ! — and committed 
to memory by the whole school. This was sung at the 
concert to a simple tune adapted to the words, and, said 
the superintendent in his report : " If the Sabbath-school 
room may ever be said to resemble ' a little heaven below,' 
it was while the hundred youthful voices united in a song 
of praise." You might often hear aged fathers and mothers 
exclaim, after a concert was over : " Did you ever hear any 
thing like it ? How the little creatures did sing ! " 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 1 47 

More than fifty years ago adult classes began to be 
formed quite generally in the schools in New England. 
It soon became common to receive reports that a large 
portion of the church and congregation were connected 
with the school. In the report of the Massachusetts 
Sabbath-School Society for 1841, it is stated that in 226 
schools in Massachusetts were 11,692 scholars over 
eighteen years of age, or an average of over fifty in 
each school. The pastor in Conway, with a congregation 
of three hundred or four hundred, counted but eleven of 
his people who did not enter the school at the close of 
the morning service. 

"Mission," or " neighborhood," or "branch" schools, as 
they were called, were then common. In country towns 
then, as now, such schools were not usually for poor 
children or foreigners, but for those who were too 
distant to attend the school at the church. Some 
churches sustained several such schools. One church 
in Fall River for many years sustained seven such 
schools from one to three miles from the church. 

Some forty years ago one church in Boston asked : 
" What shall we do for the neglected children and youth 
in our city ? Shall we form mission schools, as some of 
the churches are doing, or shall we try to gather these 
neglected ones into our own school ? " 

The decision was to gather them into their own school 
and seat them with their own children. And the result 
was that the school in one year and a half was increased 
from one hundred and fifty to three hundred and fifty. Of 
the infant class of about one hundred children all but 
fifteen or twenty were gathered in from the streets. A 
class of eighteen Swedes was gathered, thirteen of whom 
in a year and a half were converted and united with the 



1 48 INCIDEN TS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

church. The pastor said of them : " They learned the 
' language of Israel ' before they had learned our own lan- 
guage." 

Visiting scholars at their homes was very common. 
One teacher in Hopkinton traveled on foot nineteen miles 
on Fourth of July, 1841, while others were spending the 
day in pleasure-seeking, to visit the members of his class. 

Reciprocal visits by persons chosen for the purpose to 
address the concert in neighboring schools and inter- 
change of letters to be read at the concert were quite 
common forty or fifty years ago. 

The most important and marked feature in the Sabbath- 
school work forty years ago was that the chief end with 
most teachers seemed to be the conversion of the scholars. 
Sixty-three schools in Massachusetts in 1841 reported 
1,622 hopeful conversions during the year; and twenty- 
seven of those converts the same year commenced pre- 
paring for the ministry. Ninety members of the school 
in Hopkinton and eighty in Holden were that year con- 
verted. In Hopkinton every class was visited and from 
three to seven in some classes converted. A whole class 
of seven men, from thirty to forty-four years of age, formed 
a year before, were all converted. In a class of nineteen 
young men fourteen were converted. A teacher who 
wrote a note to her scholars every week soon rejoiced over 
the conversion of six of them. Another teacher, who 
requested her scholars at a certain hour every day to pray 
for their own salvation, hoped that five were soon con- 
verted. It was common to hear of the conversion of whole 
classes. 

The pastor in West Needham, now Wellesley, reported 
in 1841 that there were not more than three or four in the 
whole school over ten years of age who were not either 



CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY. 



149 



indulging hopes or anxious for their souls. The district 
school near by was like a Sabbath meeting. At noon the 
girls went by themselves to a neighboring building, and 
spent the time in prayer and reading the Bible ; and the 
boys went into another place for the same purpose. The 
boys had a weekly prayer-meeting by themselves at 
the dwellings of their parents ; and besides this two or three 
seldom met together without prayer. Their voices were 
often heard in prayer, not only in their retired chambers, 
but also in barns and sheds and ships. " I am sometimes 
filled with wonder," said the pastor. " I never witnessed 
any thing like it. I can not doubt that they are sincere. 
Forty-two are now hoping. I rejoice, and yet I rejoice 
with trembling." 

This is a sample of the Sabbath-school work quite gen- 
eral forty and fifty years ago. 

Several Calls to Other Fields of Labor. 

In 1838, my brother, Rev. Artemas Bullard, then pastor 
of the First Presbyterian Church in St. Louis, Missouri, 
wrote me as follows : — 

"My church has just sent off a strong colony to form 
a second church. Half the wealth of my church goes, 
and more than half of its pious strength. It is a choice 
draft. They have a man engaged only till spring, then 
the church will wish to call a pastor. I wish it might be 
your duty to come and be its pastor." 

It would have been very pleasant to have been 
associated with my brother, as a pastor, in that grow- 
ing city. But I did not " see it my duty " to accept a call, 
had a formal one been extended to me. 

A few years after this my brother wrote, in behalf of 
the Bible cause for the valley of the Mississippi, a very 
earnest invitation for me to become the Secretary and 



1 5 O INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

General Agent of that cause. This invitation was warmly 
urged by my father-in-law, Samuel Fowler Dickinson, Esq., 
then connected with the Lane Theological Seminary at 
Cincinnati. Among the inducements presented for me to 
accept this invitation, was the fact that the field was the 
whole valley of the Mississippi, while my present field 
of labor was only New England! Just as though any one 
could properly cultivate either. And besides the field of 
the Massachusetts Sabbath-School Society, was the Con- 
gregational churches throughout the country. 

And then again, some years later, a similar call was 
made for me to engage in the tract cause for the west. 

As inviting as these fields appeared, I could see no good 
reason for leaving a work of sufficient importance to 
engage the best energies of any one ; and a work, too, in 
which I had become very deeply interested, and that was 
so in accord with all my feelings. And I have never seen 
any occasion to regret my decision. The Sabbath-school 
work is the one to which, in the providence of God, I was first 
called, and I have been most happy in giving to it my life. 

Several years after this, a member of the Board of the 
American Sunday-School Union wrote me, inquiring what 
would induce me to leave the Society with which I was 
connected, and enter the service of the Union ? That 
was before the various denominations had so generally 
arranged to conduct their Sunday-school work through 
denominational organizations. The influence and opera- 
tions of the Union were then much more extensive than 
now, and no doubt, had I been inclined to enter into its 
service, it would have been very much, pecuniarily, to my 
advantage. But my prompt and decisive reply was that 
no pecuniary or any other inducement would lead me to 
leave my present position, so long as the Society desired 
my services. And so that question was settled. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THREE TOURS THROUGH THE WEST. 

IN 1842 I made a journey west as far as Indianapolis 
and St. Louis, in company with my brother-in-law, 
Judge Barton, and my brother Talbut, who was a physician 
in Indianapolis. Two or three incidents of the journey 
may be here recorded. 

One Sabbath was spent in Marietta, Ohio, where this 
brother graduated at the college in that city. The day 
was made busy in preaching and addresses connected with 
my Sabbath-school work. m 

On our way down the Ohio River one day, in a thunder- 
shower, my brother requested me to remind him on reach- 
ing Cincinnati to reveal a secret to me. That secret was, 
as I learned on reaching the city, that we were then sitting 
directly over several casks, not of whiskey but of gun- 
powder ! He was acquainted with some of the officials of 
the steamer, and though it was unlawful to carry that arti- 
cle on the boat, they had told him of the fact. When 
asked why he had seated himself in such a dangerous 
place, his reply was that " if the boat should be struck 
by lightning, or if for any cause the powder should be 
exploded, we were probably as safe there as we should 
be in any part of the steamer." 

While in Cincinnati we visited the Lane Seminary. By 
invitation of my brother, one evening, we attended a pan- 
orama of the infernal regions. My brother repeatedly 
warned me against being frightened at what might be 
seen. I will not describe the scenes there represented — 

151 



152 



INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 



the chains of darkness, the gnashing of teeth, the 
unquenchable fire, etc. Suffice it to say they were awful, 
but not more so than what is revealed to us in the lan- 
guage of the Bible of the woes of the lost. But I think 
the descriptions in the Word of God much more likely to 
lead men to flee from the wrath to come, than any such 
mechanical representation. If we will not hear Moses 
and the prophets, neither would we be persuaded, though 
one should rise from the dead. This panorama, however, 
was merely » pecuniary not a religious affair. 

We spent a Sabbath at Indianapolis. Every church in 
the city, except one small Baptist church, including that 
of our brother-in-law, Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, who was 
absent, was closed, that all the people might attend a 
camp-meeting in the outskirts of the city. The evening 
service was almost as much a pandemonium, so far as 
noise and confusion were concerned, as the one repre- 
sented in the panorama we witnessed at Cincinnati. 
There was praying, half a dozen at a time, singing, shout- 
ing, exhortation, falling into a trance, etc. etc. Two or 
three of Mr. Beecher's young brothers were there. When 
a woman, with a shriek, fell into a trance, and was taken 
up by several of the brethren and carried into a tent, the 
Beechers hurried away and followed to see the result. 
They overheard the victim in the trance, and who, of 
course, was all unconscious, say : — 

" Lay me down carefully, brothers ! " 

When at Chicago we found a young city with a 
population of sixteen thousand. We felt that we could 
stand in the center and almost shake the city. Its growth 
since then is one of the marvels of the age — now a city 
of probably over seven hundred thousand inhabitants. 

One of the great inconveniences of our journey was the 



THREE TOURS THROUGH THE WEST. 



15. 



mode of traveling. Then, of course, there were no rail- 
roads, and through much of the rich prairie-land our high- 
ways were corduroy roads, — timbers laid crosswise, — 
over which the stages or great lumber wagons went jolting, 
jolting, almost taking away one's breath, and requiring the 
utmost effort to keep the seat. One day our lumber 
wagon was filled up with mail-bags, among which we 
found our seats as best we could. The kind-hearted 
driver, seeing our inconvenience, consoled us with the 
statement that a new stage was to be put on the road in 
a few weeks. That was doubtless better for future 
travelers, but somehow very little consolation or comfort 
did it afford us, tired and bruised wayfarers as we were. 

Another inconvenience we found was in our food. An 
Irishman fellow-traveler said : " I can't ate their cookin* 
out here." A very little could we eat, except at Indianap- 
olis and St. Louis, where we were entertained by New 
England friends. Almost every thing that was cooked 
was done in lard. Chicken fixings, ham even, and every 
thing else were made to swim in lard. 

At St. Louis we found a real New England home for a 
few days with my oldest brother, Rev. Artemas Bullard, 
d.d., pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, which office 
he held with remarkable success for eighteen years, when 
he lost his life, with some thirty other citizens of St. Louis, 
in that fearful railroad accident at the Gasconade Bridge, 
in November, 1855. 

On our return journey we took a steamer at Chicago, 
by way of the lakes, for Buffalo. When we found that we 
could not reach Buffalo before the Sabbath, though the 
captain on starting had assured us, we could, we stopped 
over, on Saturday morning, at Mackinaw, or, as we used 
to call it in our geography lessons in my school days, 



I 5 4 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

Michilimackinac. Here, with a New York clergyman, 
we conducted service forenoon and afternoon, at the old 
chapel of the American Board of Foreign Missions. This 
chapel was erected by the Board when it had a mission at 
the island many years before for the Indians. By stop- 
ping over for the Sabbath, we had an opportunity to look 
about this unique and romantic spot, and we also escaped 
a fearful gale upon the lake Sabbath night. The Great 
Western, that came in Monday morning, had a very rough 
time, and was much injured by the storm. But our sail to 
Buffalo on Monday was most delightful. 

A Second Western Tour. 

At the end of twenty-five years' labor with the 
Society, in 1859 the Board gave me a vacation of ten 
weeks, to make a more extensive journey to the west for 
rest and recreation. Before starting I prepared the lead- 
ing articles, with the engravings, for twelve numbers of 
The Well-Spring. These were put into the hands of the 
printer, and then I kept him supplied with all the copy he 
needed by my " Editorial Correspondence." 

Mr. K. A. Burnell was then laboring as a missionary of 
the Society at the west. He was notified of my expected 
visit, and informed that I would be willing, now and then, 
to attend and address a meeting, if he wished to arrange 
for such services. On reaching him, I found that he had 
arranged for a meeting at two o'clock p. m. for children, 
and in the evening one for older persons, for every day for 
a week or two ! That, to be continued for a very long 
time, I felt would be rather over-doing the matter, inas- 
much as it was a tour for rest. 

I very soon found that the west was largely made up of 
New England people, and that most of them, in their 



THREE TOURS THROUGH THE WEST. 1 55 

younger days, were familiar with The Well-Spring or The 
Sabbath-School Visitor, and with the name of the editor ; 
and every-where they were urgent for meetings. The 
Sabbaths at Detroit, Milwaukee, Chicago, Quincy, Law- 
rence in Kansas, St. Louis, Cincinnati, etc., were crowded 
with services. 

At Chicago there were arranged three public meetings 
in different parts of the city ; and I visited and addressed 
eight Sabbath-schools and the Bridewell. 

At Milwaukee, besides several other services, there was 
a meeting in the afternoon of all the evangelical Sunday- 
schools of the city. It was held in the Spring Street 
Congregational Church, of which Rev. W. DeLoss Lane, 
d.d., now of South Hadley, Mass., was pastor. 

After addressing the school of the Plymouth Church, 
which took a large number of . The We 11- Spring, the school, 
by a most hearty vote, sent greetings to their brothers and 
sisters of The Well-Spring family, and to the Sabbath- 
school children of New England. 

I attended a Sabbath-school convention of several days, 
for southern Wisconsin, at Racine. At a mass meeting 
in a small grove, it was estimated that there were present 
four thousand children. 

I also attended a large Sabbath-school convention at 
Fond du Lac, for northern Wisconsin. One evening meet- 
ing was addressed by Governor Randall and myself. The 
governor said he had been a scholar, teacher, and superin- 
tendent in the Sabbath-school. Though not a professor of 
religion, he expressed great interest in the cause. 

In one of my addresses at a children's meeting, I had 
given expression to some fears lest his excellency might 
complain of my having entered his state without permis- 
sion and stolen from him the hearts of the children. To 
this the governor replied : — 



I56 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

"If the reverend gentleman has stolen the hearts of 
the children of Wisconsin, he is welcome to them. It is 
the only thing he could have stolen and deserve to be 
pardoned ; and I will pardon him freely without a petition. 
I do not think he will use the affection of the children 
for any bad purpose. In that case the end justifies the 
means." 

My visit to Lawrence, Kansas, I had anticipated with 
much interest, as over $500 worth of Sunday-school books 
and papers had been sent by our Society to that city, to 
aid in promoting the Sabbath-school cause in Kansas. 
And these were the first publications of the kind sent to 
that territory. And besides, two Sabbath-schools had been 
organized in Lawrence by the names of Beecher and 
Bullard schools. At the close of my address, at a united 
meeting of the evangelical schools, at 4 o'clock p.m., by 
the suggestion of one of the superintendents, a collection 
was cheerfully taken to help meet the expenses of my 
western tour. This was also done at several meetings in 
different cities, without any suggestion from the speaker. 

A somewhat curious occurrence took place in this city, 
showing the influence of the children compared with that 
of the women. 

Notice had been given in the papers and by bulletins, 
without any intended opposition to our meeting, that the 
pastor of the Unitarian church would preach at four 
o'clock p.m. on Woman. That was the same hour at which 
our united meeting of the children was called. I said to 
the pastor of the Congregational church, Rev. Richard 
Cordley : " The women will beat the children and we shall 
have a small meeting. All will wish to hear what the 
preacher has to say about woman." 

There was not as much said in public about woman as 



THREE TOURS THROUGH THE WEST. 1 57 

at the present day. We went to our meeting, and to my 
surprise, the house was literally packed, every seat was 
occupied and many were standing. 

While singing the hymn before the address we were still 
more surprised to see the Unitarian clergyman with all his 
congregation of six women come into our meeting. The 
children had carried the day. 

My visit at St. Louis was especially noteworthy. This 
was only four years after the tragic death of my brother, 
the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church. A strong 
family resemblance secured for me every-where — in the 
street, in my many calls upon the families of this society, 
in the Sabbath-school, and in the church — an immediate 
recognition that was most affecting. While these scenes 
were a constant and almost painful appeal to all my ten- 
derest emotions, they were still a most gratifying evidence 
of the deep affection with which the memory of my 
departed brother was cherished by his devoted people. 
There was scarcely any thing that touched my feelings 
more deeply than the tenderness with which the pastor, 
Rev. Dr. Nelson, frequently spoke of his predecessor, the 
sympathy he manifested with his people in their bereave- 
ment, and the pains he seemed to take to cherish among 
them these affectionate recollections of their departed 
friend. Had he been an own brother, I know not how he 
could have spoken of him with more esteem and love. 

At the time of my visit to St. Louis in 1842 the popula- 
tion was about 32,000; at the time of this visit in 1859 it 
numbered not far from 190,000. 

On the next Wednesday afternoon I addressed a large 
gathering of the Sabbath-schools of Indianapolis. This 
city is quite noted for its enterprise in the Sunday-school 
work. A few years before it was reported that nearly 



I 5 8 INCIDENTS IN A B US Y LIFE. 

every child of the city that could be brought in was con- 
nected with some Sunday-school. 

On Saturday, by special invitation of the Young Men's 
Christian Association of Cincinnati, I addressed a large 
children's meeting in a mammoth tent. In the morning 
of the Sabbath I addressed the school of the Presbyterian 
church that worshiped at the chapel of the Lane Theo- 
logical Seminary on Walnut Hills. In the forenoon I 
preached at the Congregational church under the pastoral 
care of Rev. Henry M. Storrs. In the afternoon I 
addressed a mission school at the west end of the city, in 
their beautiful new chapel, and also a Methodist school. 
At three o'clock I addressed an interesting meeting of 
children and friends in Rev. Mr. Storrs' church, and in the 
evening preached to a great multitude at the tent. 

This busy day closed the public labors of my western 
tour, and on Monday my steps were turned for home, 
which I safely reached on Friday morning, having been 
absent nine weeks and four days. In this tour I traveled 
about six thousand miles, preached and gave addresses 
ninety-eight times, and brought home to the Society one 
hundred dollars, more than the expenses of the tour. 

On reaching home I found that the printer of The Well- 
Spring had not only received from me in my absence all 
the articles he needed for the paper, but enough for a 
month or two to come. 

A Third Western Tour. 

In the spring of 1864 the Sabbath-school in Grinnell, 
Iowa, through the teachers, several of whom were officers 
in the college in that place, invited me to visit the school 
at the time the Association of the state was to hold there 
its annual meeting. This school took a large number of 



THREE TOURS THROUGH THE WEST. 1 59 

The Well-Spring, and the children, especially, wanted to see 
and hear the man who made it. 

I commenced this tour May 27, 1864. The first day, in 
the western part of the state, the train narrowly escaped 
a fearful disaster. The engine displaced a short rail, 
hurling it several rods into the bushes. Two baggage cars 
were thrown from the track just as they were passing a 
deep culvert. The wheels of the forward one came 
within an inch or two of dropping into the culvert, by 
which event the whole train would have been instantly 
stopped, and no one can tell what a wreck would have 
been made by the concussion. 

All spoke of our escape as wonderful, calling for the 
most devout thankfulness to a kind, superintending provi- 
dence. I could but inquire, How many thought of the 
kind providence that had brought us all the way from 
Boston to that spot without any accident ? 

In consequence of the detention caused by this disaster 
I spent the Sabbath at Lockport, N. Y. , instead of 
Detroit, Mich., according to my plan. Rev. Joseph L. 
Bennett, pastor of the Congregational church, at once 
arranged for me to preach in the morning at the Methodist 
church; at noon to address the Sunday-school of that 
church and his own ; at three p.m. address a united meet- 
ing of five schools ; and in the evening preach at a united 
meeting of the Presbyterian and Methodist churches. 

At Grinnell the Association, which commenced its 
session on Wednesday, was held through the week and on 
the Sabbath. At 1 o'clock p.m. on Saturday, the Associa- 
tion suspended its business and gave up the church for a 
meeting of the Sunday-schools in Grinnell and the adjacent 
towns, that the scholars might see and hear " the man 
who makes The Well-Springy I also had an opportunity 



1 60 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

of addressing the school that had invited me there on the 
Sabbath. 

A little three-year-old boy came to the children's meet- 
ing, expecting to see something marvelous, as he had 
been told that "the man who makes " The W 7 ell- Spring 'was 
going to speak. After looking some time at the speaker, 
he turned to his mother and said with an expression of 
sore disappointment : " Why, mother, he is only an old 
man!" He was expecting to see some wonderful animal, 
such as he had once seen at a show or exhibition ; but 
instead of that he was only an old man. He little knew 
how young that old man's heart was. 

On leaving Grinnell, I visited several towns and cities in 
Iowa, as far west as Des Moines, which is very near the 
center of our continent, and on my return journey I 
visited Cincinnati and Indianapolis. Meetings were held 
in all these places. 

In this tour of about one month, I traveled three thou- 
sand two hundred and eighty miles, visited thirteen towns 
and parishes, and preached or gave addresses thirty-three 
times. My " Editorial Correspondence " for The Well- 
Spring, giving an account of the various places visited and 
the scenes and events witnessed, were published in fifteen 
consecutive numbers. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

SOME EXCURSIONS. 

Visit to Prince Edward's Island. 

THROUGH the courtesy of the late Frank Snow, 
Esq., of Boston, president of the Boston and Colo- 
nial Steamship Company, and Captain P. A. Nickerson, of 
the steamer Alhambra, I had a free passage to Prince 
Edward's Island in the summer of 1866. We touched at 
Halifax and Plaister Cove, and reached Charlottetown, the 
capital of the island, seven hundred miles from Boston, in 
seventy-two hours. 

Sabbath morning there was a large fire that destroyed 
nearly $300,000 worth of property. This calamity de- 
ranged nearly all my plans for services in the churches 
and Sabbath-schools for that day. 

The superintendent of the Wesleyan school, William 
Heard, Esq., learning that my accommodations at a public 
house were not altogether comfortable, most kindly invited 
me to his beautiful home, where for more than a week his 
interesting family gave me the most hospitable entertain- 
ment. 

The next Sabbath I preached in the forenoon at the 
National Scotch Presbyterian Church ; at half-past two 
addressed the Episcopal school, and at three o'clock 
addressed a united meeting of all the Protestant schools 
in the city, excepting the Wesleyan, which was preparing 
for a special meeting for the evening. This school, which 
numbered over four hundred, held its fiftieth anniversary 

161 



1 6 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

in the evening. The senior preacher, Dr. Richey, and the 
new young preacher, who that day began his work with 
that people, and also the superintendent of the school, all 
invited me to preach a Sabbath-school sermon on the occa- 
sion. This invitation I most gladly accepted. Although 
I was seeking to recruit my somewhat impaired health, 
this was too important an opportunity to do hopeful work, 
to be unimproved. Every church in the city gave up its 
evening service to attend this fiftieth anniversary of a 
Sunday-school. 

The spacious new chapel of this people was completely 
packed ; and the seats were arranged in a sort of amphi- 
theater, so that the immense audience seemed closely 
around the speaker. Never, before or since, have I spoken 
under the pressure of such an excitement. For in no 
other instance had I felt while speaking the stimulus of 
the oft-repeated and emphatic "Amen ! " "That 's true ! " 
etc. 

On Tuesday afternoon I was invited to a public gather- 
ing — or, as it is there called, " tea " — of this people in 
a pleasant grove, for a further commemoration of their 
interesting anniversary, and where another opportunity 
was given me for an address. 

Through the kindness of several gentlemen I had five 
or six delightful drives and excursions into the country 
and across the island. One of these was fourteen miles 
to the north side of the island, to a place called Rustico. 
After a pleasant sail in company with the rector of the 
Church of England and about twenty of his people, we 
had a fine picnic, spreading a table-cloth on the ground, 
and seating ourselves in rustic style on the grass. 

I returned to Halifax by steamer to Glasgow, and then 
across Nova Scotia, forty-one miles by stage and sixty by 



SOME EXCURSIONS. 1 63 

rail. At New Glasgow, with a friend I had met on a boat, 
I went two miles to visit the Albion coal-mines. With 
a guide we went half a mile into one of these mines, till 
we came to the shaft where the coal is drawn up. We 
were, perhaps, a hundred or a hundred and fifty feet from 
the surface. The passage where the coal had been taken 
out was from ten to twenty feet wide and ten or twelve 
feet high. Every once in awhile we came to a large pas- 
sage, running out on one side or the other, far into total 
darkness, showing what vast quantities of coal had been 
taken out. And then, on either side of us and overhead, 
it was all coal, no one knows how thick. 

When we reached the shaft, we were told that the men 
were at work blasting out the coal " a mile farther in " ! 
But we did not care to pursue our way, with only two little 
lights, any further into this deep darkness. 

Close by the shaft there were extensive stables for the 
horses, dug out of the solid mass of coal. There were the 
hostler and two or three boys, with small lamps fastened 
to the front of their caps, who have the care of the horses. 
The horses are employed in drawing cars, or small boxes 
of coal, on a railway to the shaft, where they are drawn 
up by machinery and emptied. The horses never leave 
the mines to see the light of day till they are disabled. 

When at Halifax I visited the gold-mines at Waverley, 
sixteen miles from the city. There were five or six com- 
panies successfully working the mines. Some of the 
mines had been worked down one hundred or two hundred 
feet. The crushers by which the gold-bearing quartz is 
reduced to fine dust consist of from six to sixteen steel 
or iron upright shafts, each weighing six hundred pounds. 
A horizontal shaft runs near the top of these, with a flange 
for each. This is turned by steam-power, causing these 



1 64 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

heavy shafts to rise at irregular times and fall upon dies at 
the bottom, crushing or pounding to dust the quartz, as it 
is shoveled in large lumps into the hopper. A stream of 
water is constantly flowing in upon this, washing it, as it 
becomes fine, through a sieve, carrying away the stone- 
dust and leaving the fine gold, which is heavier, to settle 
into little cups, where it mingles with quicksilver and 
forms an amalgam. This is put into a retort, and by 
means of heat the mercury is passed off in a vapor and 
condensed for use again, and the fine gold is left. It is 
a very curious and interesting process. 

On the Sabbath at Halifax, I held several services and, 
among others, addressed a united meeting of the various 
schools in the city. 

On Tuesday evening I had the pleasure of attending a 
quarterly meeting of the Halifax and Dartmouth Sunday- 
school Association, which embraces fourteen schools con- 
nected with the different evangelical churches. This gave 
me the opportunity of seeing and addressing a large num- 
ber of the teachers in that region. 

In this visit of twenty-four days I traveled fourteen 
hundred miles and preached and gave addresses eleven 
times. 

The " Coit Excursionists " 

Was an organization composed of citizens of Worcester 
and vicinity for an annual steamboat excursion. It took 
its name from the captain of the steamer in which the 
company of two or three hundred made their first excur- 
sion. In 1870 I was permitted to accompany the mem- 
bers of this association, in the fine steamer New Bruns- 
wick, Captain S. H. Pike, in an excursion to the principal 
towns along the coast of Maine, to St. John and Frederic- 
ton, the capital of the Province. 



SOME EXCURSIONS. 1 65 

On this excursion I was often called on to aid the chap- 
lain in the religious and social services of his office. This 
was an occasion of much-needed relief from my daily 
round of duties. The company was select and the social 
intercourse very enjoyable. 

In 1871 the 

Bay State Excursion 

was projected. On the eighth of August a company of two 
hundred and fifty started from Commercial Wharf, Boston, 
in the above-named steamer, for an eight days' excursion 
on the eastern coast. This excursion extended to St. 
John and Fredericton. 

The company, soon after getting under way, was for- 
mally organized by the choice of officers — president, 
vice-presidents, secretary, chaplain, surgeon, and execu- 
tive committee. I was chosen president and chaplain. 
As the company was divided, for convenience' sake, into 
two sections for dinner, one section receiving their meals 
first one day and the other the next, and the chaplain was 
called on to officiate at each, and as the president and 
executive committee had to make all the arrangements 
for the evening entertainments, and the president had to 
preside at all the meetings held with the citizens of the 
various towns and cities visited, this excursion, while it 
was in all respects very pleasant, was to me a very busy 
one. 

Mr. C. B. Tillinghast, the secretary, prepared and pub- 
lished an interesting and very sprightly account of this 
tour in a handsome little volume of 69 pages, called " The 
Bay State Excursion of 1871." The following extract 
may be given here : — 



1 66 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

At a farewell meeting on our return, in Portland harbor, a sub-com- 
mittee on resolutions, appointed by the executive committee, reported, 
among quite a number of others, the following preamble and resolu- 
tion : — 

"The kind-hearted president and chaplain, Rev. Asa Bullard, who 
devotedly administered to the spiritual 'needs- of the excursionists, and 
whose uniform courtesy won for him from every heart the deepest 
feelings of respect and regard, was remembered in the following reso- 
lution, which was unanimously adopted : — 

" Resolved, That the Rev. Asa Bullard, in double capacity of chaplain 
and president, by his indefatigable, constant, and unceasing labor in 
our behalf, has greatly contributed to our happiness, and that we 
tender to him our heartfelt thanks. Always hereafter, until the pulse 
of life shall cease to beat, we will recall with gratitude and pleasure 
the very successful manner in which he has acquitted himself as our 
spiritual guide over the beautiful waters and along the rock-bound, 
evergreen shores of Maine and New Brunswick, as well as towards 
those as yet unseen but forever unclouded shores, where the wicked 
cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. 

"We will fondly treasure his memory upon earth, and cherish the 
hope that we may all meet him, at the end of life's short voyage, in 
heaven. 1 ' 

Mr. Bullard responded to this resolution with much feeling and with 
words that touched the hearts of all. 

A year or two afterwards there was another Bay State 
Excursion ; but some trouble in securing a suitable steamer, 
together with some other circumstances, made that occa- 
sion less satisfactory than the former one. 

Massachusetts Press Association. 

For several years I was connected with the Massachu- 
setts Press Association. A large portion of the editors 
and publishers of the state were connected with the asso- 
ciation. Every year this society had an excursion, in 
various directions, of two or three weeks for rest and 
recreation. 



SOME EXCURSIONS. 1 67 

It would be difficult to bring together a more genial and 
in all respects interesting company of traveling compan- 
ions. All but the officers who had the arrangement for 
the excursions, and especially the treasurer, who had all 
the bills to settle, etc., were entirely at their leisure and 
could enjoy all the changing scenes through which they 
passed. I had the great pleasure of joining in several of 
these excursions. One year the association visited the 
great international exhibition at Philadelphia. The tickets 
entitled the members, with their ladies, to the journey 
there and back and to entertainments and free access to 
all parts of the exhibition while there. 

Another excursion took us to Saratoga, St. George, 
across Lake Champlain to Burlington, Vt., where we had 
our re-union exercises in the evening. 

Still another memorable excursion was to Montreal, 
Quebec, and up the Saguenay River. We spent a Sabbath 
at Quebec, where I had an opportunity for abundant labor 
in connection with the churches and the Sunday-schools. 
The same was true wherever we spent the Sabbath in any 
of the excursions referred to. As I was usually the only 
clergyman on these excursions of the press association, I 
was made the chaplain of the occasion. 



CHAPTER XV. 



MY VISIT ABROAD. 



THERE is, perhaps, no one privilege connected with 
my temporal happiness that I have prized more 
highly or that has afforded me more true enjoyment than 
my three months' visit abroad in 1880; and I am most 
happy to acknowledge my indebtedness for this privilege 
to my late beloved pastor, Rev. James S. Hoyt, d.d., 
now of Keokuk, Iowa. 

Entirely unknown to me, he obtained from some of 
my Sabbath-school friends and some of our Sabbath- 
schools the means of my going as a delegate to the cen- 
tenary of Sunday-schools in London. 

Dr. Hoyt's first plan was to obtain the means for me 
only to attend this meeting and return. But the responses 
to his letters were so liberal that he was able one Friday 
evening at the close of our weekly prayer-meeting, to the 
surprise of every one, to present me with a five hundred 
dollar excursion ticket for a tour in Europe for three 
months. The applause of the people present was most 
unbounded. He then informed those present that I should 
be likely to need a little money in my pocket ; and, as the 
ticket was obtained outside of his own congregation, many 
of the church and society and the Sabbath-school most gen- 
erously met this need. The Board of our Society kindly 
gave me the necessary vacation for this visit, allowed my 
salary to continue, and added a grant of money, and the 
occupants of the Congregational House added their gen- 

16S 



MY VISIT ABROAD. 1 69 

erous gifts ; so that I was able easily to meet all the 
expenses of the tour. 

On the twelfth of June, at eight o'clock in the morning, 
I left New York on board the Anchoria. Sabbath fore- 
noon I had the privilege of preaching on the steamer to 
a large and appreciative audience. 

All the forenoon it was very foggy, and the steam whistle 
was constantly giving forth its shrill, warning notes several 
times a minute. At one o'clock we lunched, after which 
two or three of us were still at the table making arrange- 
ments for a Bible service in the afternoon, when we were 
run into by the steamer Queen. Our boat sunk two feet 
almost instantly. The cry was given : — 

" All on deck ! Lower the boats ! Women and children 
get in first ! " 

I was the last passenger off the boat. We all were taken 
aboard the Queen, the bows of which were all stove in, 
but it was not injured as much as the Anchoria. What 
was singular is that if our boat had been twenty-five min- 
utes farther ahead or the Queen had been twenty-five 
minutes later we should have been in clear sunshine. The 
Queen came out of clear weather into a bank of fog, 
coming upon us as a great phantom. It could not be seen 
the length of the boat. Both boats had compartments, or 
both would have sunk instantly. Two compartments of 
the Anchoria filled with water at once. 

As it was calm weather, the two boats made their way 
slowly to New York, taking two days to sail three hundred 
miles. 

On Thursday we sailed again on the Ethiopia, and had a 
most delightful voyage. Some thought it would be tempt- 
ing providence for us to start again ; but it seemed to me 
that it would be distrusting providence not to go. 



I 70 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

Fearing it might be foggy on the Sound, I took the 
steamer Narragansett for New York one night earlier than 
I otherwise should, and that was the night before she was 
burned ! Had I waited till the next night, I should have 
been aboard the Stonington, that ran into the ill-fated 
Narragansett, and should have been too late for my 
steamer. Having passed safely through these two perils, 
under a kind providence, why should I not trust him in 
the future ? 

On account of our delay we did not reach Glasgow till 
Monday morning, the twenty-eighth, the day when, at 
twelve o'clock noon, the great Sunday-school convention was 
to be organized. So I left the party with which I was to 
visit in Scotland, before the meeting, and went four hun- 
dred miles, fifty miles an hour, reaching London in the 
evening. The next morning I went to the convention and 
attended the meetings through the week. On Tuesday, 
the next week, I returned, four hundred miles, back to 
Glasgow, to meet the party that left New York on the 
twenty-sixth, and with which I was to travel on the Conti- 
nent. I might have waited in London till the party came, 
but I could not give up old Scotland, of which I had heard 
so much all my life, of its regard for the Bible and the 
Sabbath, the wise family government and training. 

Our tour was through some of the most noted places in 
Scotland, England, Holland, on to Berlin, Dresden, Leip- 
sic, Prague, Vienna, over the Semmering Pass to Adler- 
berg, into the stalactite cavern seven miles, to Trieste, 
Venice, Milan, Verona, upon the beautiful lakes of 
northern Italy, through all the important cities of 
Switzerland to Paris, and back to London and home. 

The whole tour was one of great enjoyment. My 
health was never better ; and this visit abroad has been 



MY VISIT ABROAD. 



171 



a source of joy to me, almost daily, ever since. Some 
account of it that I gave, after our return, in The Congre- 
gationalist, may appropriately be repeated here : — 

My many friends who so kindly interested themselves in my late 
visit to Europe may expect some public account of it. In a tour of 
three months, in company with thirty or forty persons, mostly stran- 
gers to each other, and of various tastes and temperaments, as may be 
supposed, there will be many little inconveniences and things to annoy ; 
and it would be the easiest thing in the world for one to make 
himself delightfully miserable by allowing himself to be constantly 
disturbed by them. 

In one of the gloomy cells of the London Tower, the walls are 
covered with incriptions sculptured by those who have there suffered 
confinement. Among these are the following : " Grief is overcome by 
patience. G. Gryfford, August 8th, 1586." " The most unhappy man 
in the world is he that is not patient in adversities. For men are not 
killed with the adversities they have, but with ye impatience which they 
suffer." This is signed: "Charles Bailey. JEt. 29. 10 Sept., 1571. 11 
And yet this Charles Bailey was an adherent of Mary Queen of Scots, 
and suffered the tortures of the rack without making any disclosures 
of importance. 

Foreseeing the little vexations likely to occur in connection with the 
anticipated tour, it was my deliberate resolve, in entering upon it, to 
"possess my soul in patience 11 in all circumstances, and get all the 
enjoyment possible out of it. While this resolve was, to a good 
degree, carried out, it must be acknowledged that there were abundant 
opportunites for "patience to have its perfect work. 11 There were a 
few, especially of the more amiable sex, who seemed to see something 
for their discomfort at nearly every step, and they very freely expressed 
it. Complaining and fretting at something or other was the constant 
burden of their song. And to many of the party this was certainly a 
burden if not a song. 

Some may wish to know the advantages or disadvantages of 
making such a tour with an excursion party. For most persons, 
especially ladies, going alone, or unattended by any who have been 
before, an excursion party, with all the little inconveniences attend- 
ing it, — particularly if the courier be intelligent, courteous, and 
gentlemanly, — has many advantages. The party need have no care 
for their baggage, for securing rooms at the hotels, paying bills for 



I 7 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

board and service, fees for guides, for making arrangements for 
carriages and seats together in the cars, obtaining railroad tickets and 
tickets for concerts, cathedrals, palaces, picture galleries, etc., or 
selecting the important cities and objects in these cities to be visited. 
All this is the proper duty of the courier, and it takes a great deal of 
care from the visitors, and prevents much waste of time. Then there 
are some places of special interest to which individuals would scarcely 
gain admittance. The managers of these excursions secure this 
privilege for large parties beforehand. 

There are also pleasant acquaintances formed in such a party. Not 
infrequently among the younger members not a little innocent flirtation 
is observed. Sometimes this develops into permanent attachments, 
and sometimes they end with the excursion. Single ladies have been 
encouraged to join these parties with the assurance that soon they 
would find themselves quite at home. The chief danger in such cases 
is that they may seek to attach themselves to one or more, as their 
companions at the table and in the frequent walks and rides of the 
party, without carefully ascertaining whether such companionship is 
mutually agreeable. In such a company there will inevitably be a 
grouping together in little clans of those of similar tastes and feeling. 
And then again some may prefer becoming acquainted with most or all 
of the party, and it may be annoying to have some particular one 
watching for his or her company at every turn. 

A member of a late European party said she wished there were more 
gentlemen, it was so handy to have them about to carry your bag for 
you. Most gentlemen have their own hand-baggage to look after ; and 
then it may be supposed they have some other objects in view than to 
look after the luggage of ladies who travel alone. 

It is my decided conviction that, as this was my first visit abroad, it 
was best that it should be made as it was, with an excursion party, 
unless it could have been in company of one or two who had been 
before. While there were some things not so agreeable, over which it 
would have been easy to have made myself unhappy, yet, it is due to my 
friends to say, all things considered, that the tour was most enjoyable, 
and one of the happiest three months of my life. 

The great objection to these excursions is that, while you may be 
able to visit many more places in the same time, these visits are too 
hurried. You go as a pilgrim and tarry, as it were, but for a night. 
You have no time to learn any thing of the people, their manners and 



M Y VISIT ABR OAD. I J 3 

customs and home life, except what you can see while flying through one 
city after another. 

A second visit, in company with two or three friends, would most 
surely, in my judgment, be much more satisfactory and profitable, made 
independently ; and it would probably be at quite as small expense. 
Let the route be carefully laid out before starting ; then secure rooms 
by letter or telegraph a few days or weeks in advance, and then remain 
at each place as long as you may find it desirable. Such a visit I should 
be most happy to make, should a kind providence ever open the way. 

It is well known that generally throughout Europe the Sabbath is not 
observed as it is with us. It is a holiday. Shops are open, and traffic 
of all sorts is carried on much as on other days. Parades and shows 
are even more frequent on Sunday than any other day of the week. 
There is great temptation, even for those who are accustomed to 
observe the Sabbath and attend public worship at home, to fall into the 
habits of the people around them when abroad. In many of the 
European cities there are places of Protestant worship, designed espe- 
cially for the benefit of tourists and the English-speaking residents, but 
there are comparatively few who attend them. In too many instances 
even professing Christian tourists spend their Sabbaths much as they 
do the other days of the week. 

At the Sunday-school Centenary in London, one speaker said some 
one asked a boy if his father was a Christian. " Yes," said he, " he 
is a Christian, but he doesn't do much at it." It is to be feared that 
there are not a few professing Christians who do not do much at their 
profession when abroad. If a cooper or a blacksmith or a merchant 
should do as little at his profession, he would find himself on the way 
to the almshouse. 

It was my purpose in starting on my late European tour to take my 
religion, so far as I had any, along with me ; to do nothing on the Sab- 
bath or any other day that would be inconsistent with my Christian pro- 
fession at home ; so that the comforts and hopes of religion might be 
my support in times of prosperity or of peril. The first Sabbath on 
the continent was spent in Berlin. Divine service was held in the fore- 
noon in the American chapel. This service is conducted by theolog- 
ical students, mostly from this country, who are pursuing their theolog- 
ical studies in that city. This is the only place where Protestant 
worship is held in the city ; and this is maintained, as in several other 
cities, for the special benefit of English and American residents and 
tourists. Many of our party, and not a few of them professing Chris- 



I 7 4 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

tians, instead of attending this service, both for their own spiritual 
good and the encouragement of those by whom it is maintained, took 
an excursion of fifteen miles to Potsdam, the Versailles of Prussia, 
and spent the day in visiting its splendid palaces, works, museums, and 
other objects of interest. A Sabbath was passed in Vienna and also in 
Venice, but there were no English or American services. In the latter, 
I went in the morning to attend high mass at St. Mark's, but was too 
late ; and the afternoon service was all in an unknown tongue, and the 
bowings and courtesying and burning of incense seemed so unchristian 
that I sought a sanctuary in my own room. 

At Bellagio, on Lake Como, there was an English church near our 
hotel ; but, as a clergyman of our party, whose habits had greatly dam- 
aged his character as a minister and a Christian in the eyes of most of 
those who had been in his company, was expected to take part in the 
service, very few attended. Some thought they could worship more to 
their taste under the great dome of the skies, amid the grand and pic- 
turesque scenes of lake and mountain around them ; and others found 
their Bethel in the quietness of their own rooms. Among other reli- 
gious reading I found Paul's Epistle to the Hebrews most stimulating 
and instructive ; and I would commend it to all tourists as very excellent 
and profitable reading for the Sabbath day. 

At Lucerne several of the party attended service in the forenoon and 
evening in a Catholic church, and heard two instructive sermons by a 
Scotch Presbyterian minister. The city authorities have placed this 
church at the service of the Protestants for these two services, when 
the Catholics do not use it. Although the walls of the church were 
hung with pictures and images of the saints, and a light was visible 
through the screen before the altar, yet the voice of praise and prayer 
and the proclamation of the good news of salvation through a 
Redeemer were sweet and refreshing. 

At Geneva, Rev. Dr. Stevens, formerly editor of Zions Herald in 
Boston, is maintaining religious services in the little American chapel 
where Rev. Leonard W. Bacon, d.d., now of Norwich, Conn., for 
some years preached. A young minister preached an excellent sermon, 
.appropriate to tourists, on the words: " We have here no continuing 
city. 11 I had the pleasure of addressing the little Sabbath-school before 
the service, and of participating in the exercises of the evening meet- 
ing for prayer and conference. 

Our last Sabbath in Europe was in Paris. Rev. Dr. Hitchcock 
preached in the morning. I attended his Sabbath-school, which he 



MY VISIT ABROAD. 



175 



invited me to address. He, in connection with a band of earnest 
missionary laborers, is doing a good work in this city of pleasure and 
worldliness. The money, in part, has been collected for a new and 
commodious church, in place of the chapel which so many friends and 
Sabbath-schools in America, some years ago, so generously aided in 
building. 

On our return voyage it was too rough and boisterous for a morning 
service the first Sabbath, but Rev. Dr. Lang, of Glasgow, pastor of the 
church where the late Dr. MacLeod used to speak, in the evening 
spoke on the words : " When thou passest through the waters, I will be 
with thee." His words were most comforting, as so many had been 
awe-stricken when " no small tempest lay on us." 

Several days, when the weather would permit, a season of family 
worship was held, and a meeting for prayer and addresses on Wednes- 
day evening, when so many of the churches at home were holding 
their usual weekly meeting; and also on the evening of our last Sab- 
bath, Rev. Dr. Lang preached a most eloquent and practical sermon in 
the morning, on the words : " The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you 
all." 

It seems to me that I have had more enjoyment in every thing 
adapted to impart joy from my attempt to maintain the same Christian 
life while abroad, on the Sabbath and every day, as when at home. 

The Sunday-School Centenary. 

All who may be interested in reading this volume 
may be glad to see a brief account of the great inter- 
national convention in London, commemorative of the 
founding of Sabbath-schools by Robert Raikes. 

This convention was planned and admirably conducted 
by the London Sunday-School Union. It commenced on 
Monday, the twenty-eighth of June, at noon, and con- 
tinued through the week. 

Saturday evening, the twenty-sixth, the Union gave a 
reception to the foreign delegates, at their rooms, 56 
Old Bailey, directly opposite the old Newgate Prison of 
London. This meeting was one of great interest. There 



I76 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

were present at the convention about three hundred 
foreign delegates from Belgium, Holland, Sweden, Ger- 
many, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, and France, on the 
continent ; one or two, even, from Australia, fifteen or 
sixteen thousand miles distant ; Pastor Jacob and his 
wife, from Oroomiah, Persia, and others from Canada 
and the United States. A large portion of these dele- 
gates were from America. The whole number, including 
those in Great Britain, was nearly a thousand. 

After a formal reception of the delegates by Sir 
Thomas Chambers, President of the Union, and Sir 
Charles Reed, one of its officials, addresses were made 
by Messrs. Reed and Higgs of Gloucester ; Dr. Vincent, 
of New York ; Vice-Chancellor Blake, President of the 
Sunday-School Union of Canada ; Mr. Woodruff, of New 
York ; Pastors Paul Cook and H. Taumier, of Paris ; 
Mr. H. G. Wade, Secretary of Victoria Sunday-School 
Union in Australia ; Mr. John Wanamaker, of Philadel- 
phia ; Pastor Truve, d.d., President of the Sunday-School 
Union of Sweden ; M. P. Palenquist, the Robert Raikes 
of Sweden ; Dr. Bums, of Nova Scotia ; M. Brockel- 
mann, Sunday-school missionary for Germany, and Dr. 
Lowrie, of New Jersey, the author of " Shall we gather 
at the river ?" 

This meeting was a fine introduction for the meetings 
of the coming convention. 

On Sunday there were several large and spirited meet- 
ings of the children of the Sabbath-schools,, in different 
sections of the city. 

The meeting for organization was at twelve o'clock on 
Monday, at Guild Hall, and was presided over by the 
Right Honorable the Lord Mayor. In his introductory 
address he said : " To my mind nothing can be more 
appropriate than that the centenary of Robert Raikes" 



MY VISIT ABROAD. IJJ 

great work, the Sunday-school movement, should be 
commemorated in the grand old Guild Hall of the city 
of London." Addresses were also made by the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, Dr. Vincent, Lord Hatherly, 
Alderman McArthur, m.p., since then chosen Lord 
Mayor of London, and several others. 

The subjects on which papers were read and addresses 
made during the week, by persons previously appointed, 
were the following : " The past history of the Sunday- 
school system ; " " Position and prospects of Sunday- 
schools on the Continent of Europe;" "The Church of 
Christ, in its relations to Sunday-school work ; " " The 
Word of God the appointed instrument of religious 
education ; " " An efficient Sunday-school agency : its 
nature and the means of its attainment ; " and " The 
future of the Sunday-school system." 

These various topics were well presented in thoroughly 
prepared papers, though some of them were quite too 
long, and by studied and earnest addresses. There was 
very little opportunity for a free discussion by the dele- 
gates generally on any of the subjects before the conven- 
tion. The prominent Sabbath-school men from the 
United States, Drs. Taylor, Hall, and Vincent, and others 
from New York ; Mr. Woodruff, of Brooklyn ; Messrs. 
Wanamaker, of Philadelphia, and Jacobs, of Chicago, and 
a few others, had a due share in the exercises, and no 
speakers acquitted themselves more acceptably to those 
addressed. 

Tuesday evening there were four meetings in different 
parts of the city, for popular addresses on various 
branches of the Sabbath-school work. These services 
were especially practical and stimulating. 

As the Sabbath-school work is comparatively new in 
most places on the continent, most of the schools having 



I78 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

been established within the past twelve or fifteen years, 
the reports and remarks of the delegates from those 
sections were much like those we used to hear in our own 
country, twenty-five or thirty years ago. There was 
much zeal and earnestness in their manner and words, but 
not very much that was new to those who had been in the 
work a quarter or half a century. 

Perhaps the most enthusiastic and stimulating meeting 
was on Thursday evening, at Exeter Hall, and four of the 
speakers were from our own country. 

The children's day was on Wednesday. Forty-six 
thousand persons gathered at the world-renowned Crystal 
Palace, at Sydenham, fifteen miles from the city. All the 
exercises had special reference to the children, and were 
attended with extraordinary attractions. There was a 
grand concert, in which five thousand well-trained 
children delighted an immense audience for an hour. 
After this there was a mass concert upon the terraces of 
the palace, in which thirty thousand united their voices 
with bands of instrumental music. 

A delightful surprise was occasioned by the letting on of 
the water to the numerous fountains, which was thrown 
up in most fantastic forms. And there were games and 
athletic sports for the children, with prizes, and a balloon 
ascension, and many other arrangements, all for the 
gratification of the young. In all the services of this 
occasion, and in this great gathering of men, women, and 
children, there was not a single case of disorderly conduct 
or of intoxication. That Wednesday must long remain 
in the memory of all those who were present as a day of 
remarkable interest. That fairy palace, too, made wholly 
of iron and glass, sixteen hundred feet long and three 
hundred feet wide, with its beautiful grounds, must have 
been photographed on the minds of all. 



MY VISIT ABROAD. 



179 



On Saturday the beautiful and appropriate bronze 
statue of Robert Raikes was unveiled by Lord Shaftsbury, 
in the Victoria Garden, on the Embankment, in the pres- 
ence of a large audience. It is almost directly opposite 
Cleopatra's Needle, where for ages it may be seen by the 
myriads who will pass and re-pass on that frequented and 
delightful promenade. 

But the scene in connection with this centenary that 
most deeply moved the feelings of every Christian heart 
was the communion service at the Metropolitan Taberna- 
cle. Mr. Spurgeon, the pastor of that church, presided, 
and made a most tender and touching address. There 
were between four and five thousand communicants pres- 
ent. At the close, by the request of Mr. Spurgeon, all 
that immense audience joined hands and sang Cowper's 
hymn : — 

"Ere since by faith I saw the stream," etc. 

That scene alone was worth all it cost of money and 
time and fatigue and peril to cross and re-cross the ocean. 
I never expect again to see the like on earth. 

Before commencing this visit abroad, I prepared the 
leading articles, with the illustrations, of sixteen numbers 
of The Well-Spring, I prepared three articles on the 
steamer each way, and a large number while in Europe, 
which were sent to the printer. We reached home on 
Monday, and on Tuesday copy was wanted for the seven- 
teenth number. 

For many weeks after my return accounts of the places 
I visited and the scenes I witnessed were published in 
The Well- Spring. Those articles might interest the 
readers of this volume, but they would swell it to an 
unreasonable size. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



THE CHESTNUT STORY. 



NO proper sketch of my life in connection with the 
Sabbath-school could be given, that did not include 
my "chestnut story." It is one of the most remarkable 
Sunday-school stories of the age. 

Perhaps I can not better present it here than in the 
familiar and informal way in which I used to repeat it in 
some of my addresses at Sabbath-school meetings, when 
speaking on the subject of doing good. 

Rev. George Constantine, d.u., now of Bombay, was 
born in Athens, Greece. He was converted to Protestant- 
ism by our foreign missionary, the late Rev. Dr. King. 
He came to this country, and while at the high school in 
Cambridge was converted to Christ. He then went to 
Amherst College in 1855. 

He soon heard of a neighborhood, about four miles from 
college and within the same distance from twelve evangeli- 
cal churches, where four towns come together : Shutes- 
bury, Leverett, Pelham, and Amherst, and which was 
often called " the devil's corner." No one seemed to be 
taking any concern about the spiritual interest of this 
neglected neighborhood. 

Mr. Constantine said to himself : " That is no mission- 
ary spirit at all, that sends missionaries to Greece and 
Africa and heathen lands, and leaves a people within four 
miles of twelve evangelical churches uncared for ! " 

So he went to that neighborhood and established a 
Sabbath-school ; and every Sabbath, at four o'clock in the 

180 



THE CHESTNUT ST OR Y. I 8 I 

afternoon, he walked four miles and conducted it, So 
George Constantine, of Greece, became a foreign mission- 
ary in old Puritan Massachusetts ! 

I spent a Sabbath in Leverett, and at four o'clock in the 
afternoon visited and addressed Mr. Constantine's mission 
Sunday-school. After my visit, some of the children 
wanted to take a collection to send books and papers to 
poor children at the west. Mr. Constantine told them if 
they did they must earn or save the money they were to 
give. 

So the children went to work. The boys picked stones, 
packed shingles, went on errands, picked nuts, etc. One 
boy — whom they called " deacon " because he brought in 
all the new scholars, and who left off his hat and shoes 
because "them other boys didn't wear none, and they 
would feel badly if he did" — picked four quarts of wal- 
nuts. The girls helped their mothers in various ways. 
One little girl sewed six weeks and her mother gave her 
a cent ! Was n't that good wages ? 

Mrs. Nurse, a poor woman, picked two quarts of chest- 
nuts and sold them to get money for her contribution. 
Some family wants led her to use the money, intending to 
pick some more chestnuts for the contribution. One cold 
afternoon she took a neighbor's little girl and went in 
search of chestnuts. There were not many that season, 
and the squirrels had gathered what there were. After 
searching some time and finding none, they came to a tree 
where the ground was covered with leaves. They got 
down upon their knees and began to brush away the 
leaves, when they came upon a little heap of about half a 
pint of chestnuts, that a squirrel, perhaps, had gathered 
for winter's use, and forgotten where he hid them. 

When the contribution day came Mrs. Nurse was n't 



I 8 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

present. After school Mr. Constantine called on her and 
found her looking very sad. In answer to his inquiry why 
she was not at school, she said : — 

" I had n't any thing to give, and I did n't want to go." 

She then told him about her using the "money she meant 
to have given, but she had nothing now only these few 
chestnuts. 

"Well," said Mr. Constantine, "perhaps I will take your 
chestnuts." 

" Will you ? " she anxiously inquired ; "I think God will 
bless them, for I wanted to give something." 

As the result of the contribution of this school to the 
Society, I received three hundred cents, four quarts of 
walnuts, and half a pint of chestnuts. For the walnuts 
I gave twenty-five cents a quart, when I could have pur- 
chased ever so many for half that price. So I paid into 
the treasury of our Society, as a donation from this school, 
$4.00. I now had left on hand the chestnuts, for which 
I hoped in some way to obtain fifty cents or a dollar, and 
send word to the donor that " God had blessed her 
offering." 

New Year's night I was invited to attend a gathering 
and supper of the Sabbath-school at Winchester, Mass. 
I said : " I will take the chestnuts and see what can be 
done with them." I counted them over, and found one 
hundred and fifty that were sound and good, though all 
of them were very small. There were very few that year 
and they could n't afford to grow very large. 

In the course of my address at the gathering, I related 
the story of the chestnuts, and held up the bag containing 
them, and said : " The good woman thinks God will bless 
them ; now what shall we do with them ? Friends, what 
shall we do with these chestnuts ? " 



THE CUES TNU T STORY. 1 8 3 

A teacher said : " Why not put them up at auction ? " 

"Very well," I replied; "we will, if you will act as 
auctioneer;" and he was an auctioneer. 

They were soon bid off for five dollars. The man who 
bought them put them up again, and they were bid off for 
two dollars and fifty cents. 

I supposed this was the last of it. God had blessed them, 
and I could inform the good woman that they had been 
sold for seven dollars and fifty cents, and the money 
given to the Society to aid in establishing Sunday-schools 
at the west. 

It was stormy at the time of this meeting, and the 
attendance was so small that the meeting was adjourned 
one week, and I was invited to be present. 

In the meantime the auctioneer obtained possession of 
the chestnuts, and divided them into four little bags. In 
the course of the meeting he related the story of the 
chestnuts and said he was going to put them up at auction 
again. "But," said he," since the last meeting chestnuts 
is riz', so I can't sell them all at once. I shall sell them 
one bag at a time." 

They were then bid off for two dollars and fifty cents a 
bag — in all, ten dollars, or, including the former sale, seven- 
teen dollars and fifty cents. I bought one bag to keep, to 
remember the giver. Two of the purchasers gave me 
their bags, saying, " Perhaps you can turn them to further 
account." 

Soon after this I attended a Sabbath-school meeting at 
the Congregational church at East Cambridge (that house of 
worship has since been removed to West Somerville). I car- 
ried my three bags of chestnuts with me and, in the course 
of my address, told the story of the chestnuts, held up 
my little bags, and informed the audience as to their great 



1 84 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

value, and that I could not sell for less than about five 
dollars a bag. In a few days a little boy of that school 
called on me and said with great enthusiasm : — 

"Mr. Bullard, our school has raised five dollars, and I 
want to get one of your bags of chestnuts to give to our 
superintendent ! " 

The next week another little boy came, saying in the 
same excited manner : — 

" Mr. Bullard, our school has raised five dollars more, 
to buy the bag of chestnuts away from our superintendent 
and give it to our minister ! " 

And soon after, the minister gave me the bag to sell 
again for the Sabbath-school cause. 

A little after this the superintendent of that school 
suggested that I should get some of those wonderful chest- 
nuts blown into little glass bottles by the Bohemian Glass 
Blowers, who were then in his neighborhood. Accordingly 
I had, in all, perhaps one hundred and twenty-five of them 
blown into these little decanters, or bottles with curious 
stoppers in variegated colors. A part of the fourth bag 
at length came into my hands, so that I had about one 
hundred and thirty. 

These little bottles were sold in every direction, for 
from five to ten dollars apiece. Many of them were sent 
back to me to be sold over again. 

In my visit to the west in 1859, I to °k several of them 
and left them in every state I visited, as far west as 
Kansas for which I obtained about one hundred and thirty 
dollars. 

One of the most remarkable cases was at the Sabbath 
school of the Phillips Church, South Boston, of which Rev. 
Dr. E. K. Alden, now of the American Board, was then 
pastor. The superintendent requested me to relate the 



THE CHESTNUT STORY. 



185 



" chestnut story." After school he asked me to leave one 
of the bottles, as he thought they could do something 
with it. The school went to taking up collections till 
they had raised thirty dollars, which they thought was 
a fair sum for it. Under the interest thus excited, they 
went to taking collections to clothe poor children, in 
which they raised quite a little sum. Then the school 
presented the chestnut to their minister, and he soon 
sent to the Society ten dollars to constitute the chestnut 
a life member of the Society. 

In relating the story to the Sabbath-school children, I 
frequently referred to the fact that the stopper was blown 
in, and that I wished all decanters and bottles had the 
stoppers blown in. It would help in the temperance work. 
" Now," I would say, "you see, you can not get this stopper 
out, except in the way the little boy got the money out of 
his money-pot, as he called it. 

" ' Mother,' " said he, ' I wish I had a cent.' 

" ' What do you want a cent for, my boy ? ' 

" ' I want to buy a money-pot,' 

" It was a little porcelain mug with a slit in the top 
through which to slip in money, a sort of bank or contri- 
bution box, which the boy wanted. He got his money-pot 
and showed it to his uncle, who said : — 

" ' What is that ? ' 

"'Uncle,' said he, 'won't you slip a twenty-five cent 
piece in there, and see how it will ring ? ' 

" His uncle slipped in the money, but he could n't get it 
out again. 

" One day some time after, the little boy came to his 
mother and said : — 

" ' Mother, my money-pot is very heavy, and I wish I 
knew how much money is in it. If you will roll out the 



1 8 6 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY IIFE. 

table and put on the table-cloth, I will get a hammer and 
hit the money-pot a crack, and we will see how much money 
there is.'" 

So his mother prepared the table and the little boy 
hit his money-pot a crack, and out came — how much? 
A dollar ? More than that. Two dollars ? More than 
that — three dollars ! All this he had collected by asking- 
persons to put in their money to see how it would ring. 

" Now, the only way you can get the chestnut out of this 
bottle is to hit it a crack." And a little girl out west who 
could n't speak quite plain heard the story, when she 
said : — 

" ' I should n't t'ink any body would want to hit such a 
pretty t'ing as dat a track. I dess I should n't.' " 

At length all the bottles were disposed of and I ceased 
to repeat the story. But the end was not yet. A year or 
two afterward I received a letter from a gentleman in 
Pennsylvania, saying that he was connected with a county 
Sunday-school society, and that he had come across a little 
glass bottle with a chestnut in it. On learning its history, 
he thought it was a pity that its mission should cease, and 
so had it photographed ; and he sold them for twenty-five 
cents apiece, and he had raised one hundred dollars to buy 
books for his poor schools. 

He sent me a photograph, and said perhaps I could use 
it in the same way. I had it copied, and in a year or two 
disposed of some thousands at twenty-five cents each. I 
did not sell them, but after telling the story and showing 
the picture, I offered to give it to any who might want it 
to remember the poor woman, who would make a donation 
of twenty-five cents to our Society. 

Now the pecuniary result of all this is, that not far from 
two thousand dollars have come to the Sabbath-school 



THE CHES TNUT S TOR Y. 1 8 7 

cause from these one hundred and fifty chestnuts. Has 
not God blessed the mite of this poor woman ? 

But this is not all. Similar cases have grown out of it. 
The case connected with the Sanitary Commission during 
the war, in which a " sack of flour " was sold over and 
over till quite a sum was realized, no doubt grew out of 
this chestnut story. 

Then this story became widely known. Years ago I 
received from some unknown person in Port Natal, South 
Africa, six square letter sheets of paper, in which were 
secured beautiful bouquets of dried grasses and flowers of 
that country. They were all inscribed to me, some in the 
language of the people there. On one of them was 
written : — 

" May they do as much good as did the poor woman's 
chestnuts." 

Just as though it had become my business to go round 
the country and sell whatever any one might send me for 
the cause of benevolence ! 

The chestnut story was a "providential story." The 
little girl who was with Mrs. Nurse when they came across 
the little pile of chestnuts jumped up and clapped her 
hands, saying, " Is n't God good to drop them down here 
for us ? " So I called the nuts " providential chestnuts." 
I am not to blame for the wonderful results. All I at first 
sought was to get enough to show the poor woman that 
" God had blessed them." 

Mr. Constantine made us a visit while this story was 
before the people. In the evening we cracked some of 
the walnuts picked by the little boy of his school. When 
he left he asked for a few to keep. I gave him a handful. 

He visited Washington soon after, and one Sabbath day 
addressed a mission school in the city and told the story 



1 8 8 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

of his own school at the corner, and of the chestnuts. 
He exhibited a specimen of the walnuts, when two of the 
teachers bought each of them one and gave him two dollars 
apiece. He gave me the four dollars for the Society. I 
told my family " not to crack another one of those wal- 
nuts for any thing, for they were very valuable ! " In a 
short time, however, I gave them permission to crack 
them, on the ground that I could n't run two wheelbar- 
rows at once. And so the whole matter has now come to 
a close. 

The story illustrates the importance of little things, of 
little actions, right or wrong ones. " Behold, how great a 
matter a little fire kindleth ! " 

Perhaps I should add that in 1 864 I wrote a volume for 
the society of over one hundred and twenty pages, called 
" The Sabbath-school Chestnuts." It had an extensive sale, 
but is now out of print. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 

Our Home and Family. 

DURING our first year in Boston we made our home 
with a private family in the city. Here our first- 
born died a few days after birth. The second year our 
home was in the family of the late Rev. Jared Curtis, 
chaplain of the State Prison, in Charlestown. I often offi- 
ciated for him in his absence. 

We united with the Winthrop Church in Charlestown > 
then under the pastoral care of the late Rev. Daniel 
Crosby. During a long illness of the pastor, Mr. Curtis 
and myself took charge of the prayer-meetings ; and at 
this time there was unusual religious interest among the 
people. The invalid pastor, in a very humble and submis- 
sive tone of voice, said : — 

" How mysterious it is that the Lord should thus visit 
my people when I am shut off from my work ! " 

But we were only entering into his work. He had been 
most faithfully sowing the good seed of the Word, and we 
were now permitted to help gather in some of the harvest. 

This year the eldest of our children now living was 
born. We now felt that it was best to establish a home 
of our own. One day I said to Mrs. Bullard : — 

" I have been to look at a house in the city I saw adver- 
tised to let. 

" Well/' she inquired, " what do you think of it ? " 

" The house is a good-looking one and pleasantly 

189 



1 90 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

located, but I do not think we can afford to take it. The 
rent is two hundred dollars more than my salary ! We 
should have to live very economically to get along, under 
those circumstances." So little we understood in regard 
to this part of the expense of housekeeping in the city ! 

We finally obtained a house in Barton Street, in the 
extreme western part of the city. Here we resided for 
five years ; and here two of our other children were born. 
Then we kept house five years in Poplar Street, Boston. 
And here our youngest child was born. 

In full view of our home was the fine building of the 
Massachusetts General Hospital. At first it was regarded 
as quite an attraction to our limited city prospect. But 
when we came to learn what a hospital meant, — that it is 
constantly the scene of suffering and pain ; that here the 
surgeon's instruments are in almost daily use, — much of 
the attraction vanished. We looked upon the massive 
structure with a very different sensation. 

One day a nurse in one of the wards of the hospital, 
who was a member of Bowdoin Street Church, then under 
the pastoral care of the late Rev. Hubbard Winslow, and 
to which church we had removed our church relations, 
sent for me to visit one of her patients, a young woman 
who was in an inquiring state of mind. I visited her and 
gave her such instruction as her case seemed to require 
and prayed with her. On leaving I was urged, both by 
the patient and her nurse, to call again. In a few days 
the visit was repeated. The same request, still more 
urgently, was made. After a few visits more, it appeared 
that the nurse and patient — and, indeed, several other 
patients in that and two or three other wards that I had 
visited — were anticipating the visits more and more, and 
were disappointed if many clays passed without any. To 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 1 9 I 

obviate this state of things, the officials of the hospital 
kindly arranged for my visit each week, on a day when 
general visitors were not admitted. 

After this, for a year or two, I visited five or six wards 
every week, when my official duties did not call me from 
the city. I went from ward to ward, spoke a few words 
to every patient, trying to cheer the desponding and 
guide and direct the minds of the inquiring as best I was 
able. Then I read a few verses of Scripture and offered 
a short prayer. 

It was often very affecting to see how the countenances 
of the patients, the convalescent and also those most 
severely ill, even those who had but recently passed 
through the most painful operation, would brighten up as 
I entered the ward. Many of these patients were Catho- 
lics, but all seemed interested to hear the few sweet words 
of the blessed Book and the voice of prayer. 

It was thought that several of the patients, in connec- 
tion with these services, were led to trust in the Great 
Physician, and that not a few who had learned to put 
their trust in him were cheered and comforted. 

This hour or more, in which so many short services 
were crowded, was very fatiguing, but the interest mani- 
fested made it an occasion of great personal enjoyment 
and spiritual good to myself. 

As my early years were passed in the country and on 
the farm, and as I had learned to love every green thing 
and every living creature, the confinement amid the brick 
walls, narrow streets, and limited views of the city 
became more and more oppressive, and we finally de- 
cided to seek a residence in some rural place in the 
vicinity. 

My first visit of inspection was in Cambridge. After 



I 92 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

some inquiries in different parts of the town, — it was 
not then a city, — I came to a man on Dana Hill, just 
opposite Centre Street. He was fixing a gate. To the 
inquiry if there was any house in the neighborhood either 
to let or to sell, he replied that he did not know of any. 
After a few moments of general conversation he said : — 

" There is a man down there in Centre Street getting 
into his wagon, wno does let and sell houses." 

I had just time to hail him. And that house out of 
which he had come has been our " Sunnybank " home 
for forty years ! What important events were suspended 
on that brief moment of time ! An instant more and 
that man would have been beyond my call. Then where 
would have been our home ? How different, in many 
respects, might have been my life and that of my family \ 
Here, at Harvard University, a son obtained his collegiate 
and much of his medical education ; and here three 
daughters obtained their education in a high school that is 
equal to almost any, if not indeed to any, academy in the 
land. Here, too, in a location with all that is desirable in 
rural life, we are within easy access to the city and the 
place of my official labors. 

Our Present Home and How We Paid for It. 

Our dwelling is on a lot of about one third of an acre. 
As it stands on an elevated terrace, where the sun always 
shines,, when it shines at all, and as we try to have it 
always shine inside, we call it " Sunnybank." 

When we took possession of this new home, we found 
every tree and vine and shrub on the place had heen neg- 
lected, and weeds had general possession. For the mere 
pleasure of work and of seeing the improvement that 
would follow it, as well as for the needed exercise, for 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 193 

many years, through all the seasons for such labor, I 
spent from two to three hours before breakfast nearly 
every morning in earnest labor on these neglected 
grounds. They soon showed the effect of this labor. 
An Irish gardener, in passing, often looked with great 
interest on this early labor, and noticed the magical 
changes that were constantly going on. One morning, 
a little after four o'clock, he stopped and watched the 
quick and energetic motions of this gentleman laborer for 
a moment, and then exclaimed : — 

" Ye 're the only gintleman in Cambridge ! " 

I said in reply that if all the gentlemen in town did 
their own gardening in that way, he would probably 
sing another song. 

At the end of two years the place was so improved that, 
with the advice of friends, it was purchased. Only 
about one quarter of the cost was paid down ; the rest was 
encumbered by the ornament which the little girl said her 
father was going to put on his house next week — a 
mortgage ! 

Now there was a new motive for economy in the house- 
hold, and for the adoption of every suitable measure, not 
only to pay the interest, but also to lessen the principal. 
The interest was only about one quarter what the rent 
would have been most of the next twenty years ; and by 
the small sums, from time to time endorsed on the note, 
this was yearly growing less and less. 

At the end of about twenty years the mortgage was 
canceled and the homestead was free ! No one who has 
not experienced it can conceive the joy and gladness with 
which the whole household hailed that important event. 

On reckoning up the original cost and interest, includ- 
ing also some two thousand dollars for additional and 



1 94 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

various improvements to the house and the grounds, and 
also the expense for necessary repairs, shingling, painting, 
etc., it was found that they amounted to just about the 
same the rent for those years would have done ; but had 
I been paying rent, I should have had no homestead. 

That is the way I obtained our homestead, which is now 
worth much more than it was when purchased. Besides, 
the amount of comfort the family have had in the thought 
that it was our own, or would be erelong, has been worth 
more than all the economy, careful contrivance, and even 
sacrifice, it has cost to secure it. 

In a place where real estate promises to increase rather 
than diminish in value I would advise all professional men 
with any fair prospect of permanency in their location to 
purchase a home at the outset. If the whole must be 
mortgaged, the interest will not equal the rent. 

Concentrated Labor. 

From my experience on my little plat of land I have 
been led to think much upon the importance of concen- 
trated labor. It seems to me that most farmers in New 
England have too much land. Their labor and their fertil- 
izers are extended over too many acres. 

At the west, where fertilizers are not needed, where 
taxes upon lands are small, and where agriculture is 
engaged in on a large scale and almost every part of it 
done by machinery, it is different. There one farmer may 
have his thousands of acres of corn and wheat and make 
a profitable business of it. But with us here in New 
England, if the labor, manure, fencing, etc., that are now 
expended on many a farm were concentrated from one 
third to one half, or even more, the results, it is believed, 
would be greater than now. At the same time much 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 



195 



expense for fencing and taxes would be saved, and the 
better cultivation of the land would make all the labor 
easier and in every way more satisfactory. 

It is truly wonderful how much labor may be usefully 
expended on a small piece of land, and what large results 
will follow. The following illustration of the effects of 
concentrated labor of this kind may be interesting to 
some New England farmers, and especially to some small 
land-owners. 

The farm on which this labor has been performed con- 
tains about one third of an acre. The house and barn, 
the walks, grass-plats, borders and beds for shrubbery and 
flowers, take about one half of the lot. On the remaining 
seven thousand feet there are three cherry-trees, four 
apple-trees, seven peach-trees, forty pear-trees (of some 
thirty different kinds, some of the trees having two or 
more kinds), one hundred grape-vines of eighteen different 
varieties (many of these vines are on trellises around the 
house and barn), one hundred hills of currants between 
the trees and between the rows of trees (yielding last year 
three bushels of currants), fifty hills of raspberries between 
the rows of trees, and a few dozen hills of tomatoes. 

Almost all these trees, vines, and bushes are in bearing 
condition and yield abundantly. From this little spot 
there has been gathered this season at least sixty bushels 
of fruit. 

The cost for enriching this small spot of land has been 
but little beyond the cost of the few loads of loam each 
autumn for the compost heap, as most of the dressing has 
been made on the place of coal ashes. And there has been 
but little expense for hired labor except for a few days in 
the spring and autumn for spading the ground and getting 
out the dressing. 



1 96 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

This is a specimen of the results of concentrated labor. 
It is doubtful if the same amount of labor and fertilizers 
expended over several acres of the same kind of land 
would have given as good results. 

An Hour in a Garden. 

Some of my most pleasant and perhaps profitable medi- 
tations have occurred while working in my little garden. 
I seldom prune my vines without thinking of that beautiful 
saying of our Saviour : "I am the vine, and ye are the 
branches." 

A single hour of labor and care in a garden — how 
wondrous its results ! With pruning-knife and shears 
and matting, how soon an ill-shaped, unsightly tree or 
shrub is changed into an object of symmetry and grace ! 
An hour among the vines, properly arranging them on 
the trellis, and checking their too luxuriant growth so 
that their vital forces may be employed in developing 
the luscious clusters — how marked its influence ! A 
brief season of care among the flowers and plants, 
giving to the weak and drooping the needed support, 
removing the hurtful insects and weeds, loosing the 
hardened soil about the roots, and by judicious 
pinching and pruning bringing them to forms of come- 
liness and beauty — how it pays, and how satisfactory 
as we look at the effects ! And then, as with hoe and 
rake we pass through the paths and walks, and among 
the trees and shrubs and plants, what a transformation 
it produces ! And how smooth and velvety the lawn over 
which has passed the mower ! Such are the effects of 
an hour, now and then, of thoughtful care and labor in 
the garden and grounds that grace and beautify and 
cheer our dwellings. The more frequent these seasons, 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 



197 



the less labor and care it will require to keep all in 
perfect order, while only a few omissions will show to 
every passer-by the evidences of neglect. 

How sad that any — when it costs so little time and 
labor — should, through sloth, want of taste, thought- 
lessness, or indifference, leave their surroundings to be- 
come unsightly, overgrown with noxious weeds, and a 
confused mass of tangled vines and shrubbery. 

And an. hour of labor and care in the garden of the heart 
is not less wondrous in its effects than in the natural 
garden. How a season spent in earnest communion with 
the Scriptures or some devotional book, in meditation, 
self-examination, and prayer, helps to give vigor and 
beauty to all the Christian graces ! How it checks the 
growth of worldliness, and pride, and love of ease, and 
selfishness, and directs the forces of the soul to the 
growth and development and sweetness of all the fruits 
of the Spirit — love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, 
goodness, faith, meekness, temperance ! How such a 
season helps to remove doubts and fears, and to 
strengthen and support a weak and trembling hope and 
a wavering faith ! 

Without such seasons of labor and care, how soon 
all the avenues of the spiritual garden become unsightly, 
and every hurtful weed springs up to choke the delicate 
plants of righteousness, and the whole scene becomes a 
waste — no beautiful flowers or luscious fruits or pleas- 
ant objects appear. 

Frequent seasons of watchfulness and care are more 
needful here than in our natural gardens. Every good 
plant in the heart is an exotic, requiring much watch- 
fulness and protection, while the hurtful ones that we 
have to destroy are in their native soil. They spring 



I98 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

up spontaneously, and grow up without culture. The 
scorching sun, the withering drought, the desolating hail, 
the sweeping tempest, the noxious insect., seldom injures 
them. They are as tenacious of life as are the vexatious 
purslane and witch-grass that again and again we root 
up from our flower-beds. Nothing but the most persistent 
efforts can check and eradicate them. 

And yet we can have more certainty of success in the 
culture of the heart than in that of the most favored 
garden spot on earth. Every hour we spend there we can 
have divine help. The great Gardener will give us his 
aid. He will send the dew and the sunshine and the gen- 
tle rain, if we faithfully watch over and care for the plants > 
that will insure their growth and fruitfulness. 

Let us only be as regular and earnest in the care of our 
hearts as most lovers of ^nature are of their gardens, and 
the north wind will awake, and the south wind will come 
and blow upon them, that the spices thereof may flow out, 
and He whom our souls love will come into his garden and 
eat his pleasant fruit. 

Silver Wedding. 

The twenty-fifth anniversary of our wedding occurred 
May 16, 1857. This anniversary we had known was 
called in some countries in Europe the " silver wedding." 
We had never heard of the celebration of this anniversary 
under that name in New England. 

It seemed to us proper that the event should be recog- 
nized, and so we issued cards of invitation to a large 
number of our friends and acquaintances to call on us at 
our " Sunnybank " home in Cambridge on that occasion. 
On the corner of the card of invitation were the words 
"Silver Wedding," to indicate the event the gathering 
was to celebrate. 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 



199 



Many of the papers, secular and religious, gave very- 
pleasant accounts of the occasion. It will interest at 
least our special friends — and it may not be improper — 
to give some specimens of these notices. 

The Boston Journal spoke thus of it : — 

We know of no person who can rejoice in the possession of the 
deep and heartfelt affection of a larger number of friends , of all ages — 
from the little child barely able to lisp the Lord's Prayer, to the aged 
saints ready to enter upon the bliss of heaven — and scattered all over 
New England, than the Rev. Asa Bullard, the devoted and beloved 
Secretary of the Massachusetts Sabbath-School Society. There are very 
few persons who have been connected with any Congregational 
Sabbath-school in Massachuetts during the last twenty years, who 
can not recall the kind words of counsel and instruction to which they 
have listened with eager interest as they fell from his lips, and the 
good resolutions which they have aided in forming or strengthening. 
This great multitude of friends will be pleased to know that last 
Saturday was the twenty-fifth anniversary of the marriage of Mr. 
Bullard, and at this event, the silver wedding, as it is termed, was 
commemorated by a social gathering of his friends in this vicinity at 
his residence in Cambridge last evening. Notwithstanding the un- 
pleasant weather, there was a general response to the invitations sent 
out, the visitors filling the house to overflowing, and a more happy 
assemblage we have never seen. 

The evening was spent in social conversation and congratulations. 
About nine o 'clock a bounteous collation was provided. At a season- 
able hour the company retired, with the sincere and heartfelt wish that 
their beloved friend and host, and his excellent and worthy companion, 
with their children, may all be spared to celebrate a golden 
wedding. 

A number of the Cambridge friends of Mr. and Mrs. Bullard, 
desirous that the celebration of the silver wedding should be 
something more than a mere social gathering for an hour, placed upon 
their parlor table a rich and beautiful silver tea-set appropriately 
inscribed. Other friends contributed other gifts. Three "little 
friends " of Mr. Bullard added a fine copy of Gray's Poems. These 
testimonials of affection were as gratifying as they were unexpected 
to the recipients. 



200 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

As many parents who were present expressed a wish 
that their children might have enjoyed the occasion, on 
Independence Day, July 4, we invited the members of the 
Sabbath-schools of the Shepard Church, of which the late 
Rev. J. A. Albro, d.d., was pastor, and of the Prospect 
Street Church, of which Rev. C. W. Gilman was then pas- 
tor, to spend the afternoon at our home. 

The Boston Journal gave the following account of that 
gathering : — 

One of the most pleasant gatherings of the day took place in 
Cambridge Saturday afternoon, at the residence of Rev. Asa Bullard, 
the Secretary of the Massachusetts Sabbath-School Society. It was 
a kind of sequel to the silver wedding of this most estimable man, 
an account of which we gave a few weeks ago. At that gathering, 
which was composed entirely of adults, the question was asked why 
the children were not present. The best answer was that there was 
not room for them then. Their kind friend, Mr. Bullard, had not, 
however, forgotten them, and was looking forward to Independence 
Day, when he hoped to meet them in the beautiful grounds attached 
to his residence. Accordingly an invitation was last Sunday extended 
to the scholars connected with the two Congregtional Sabbath-schools 
in Cambridge, to meet their friend and the "children's friend 11 at his 
house, on Saturday afternoon. The invitation was heartily responded 
to, and about four o ^lock bright-eyed happy-faced little ones began 
to assemble, and kept coming until there were four or five hundred of 
them present. Several of the boys and girls brought beautiful bouquets 
of flowers and handed them to Mr. Bullard as he greeted them on 
their entrance. A delegation of girls from Rev. Dr. Albro's school 
were dressed in white, and had their heads wreathed in flowers. As 
they entered they handed Mr. Bullard two neat cases, which were 
found to contain a splendid silver pie-knife and other articles of silver 
ware, which were inscribed: "Shepard Sabbath-school, Cambridge, 
to Rev. Asa Bullard. 11 Mr. Bullard acknowledged the kind gift in a 
few appropriate words. 

After the company were all assembled they were allowed an hour to 
play about the grounds and have a good time. An ample collation 
was then served out to them, and after thev were satisfied, brief 



INCIDENTS IN HOME II FE. 201 

addresses were made to them by Rev. Mr. Gilman, Rev. Mr. Bullard, 
Deacon Hosmer, superintendent of the Shepard school, Hon. 
Charles Theodore Russell, and Rev. Dr. Albro. Before separating, 
the children gave three hearty cheers as an acknowledgment of their 
appreciation of the generous hospitality of their kind-hearted friend. 
The occasion was a delightful one to all who were present. 

The Cambridge Chronicle, after giving an account of the 
above gathering, added the following : — 

The sequel to the whole occurred on Monday evening last, when 
quite unexpectedly to the recipient, Mr. Bullard was visited by the 
superintendent and teachers of Rev. Mr. Gilman's Sabbath-school, 
and received from the superintendent a silken purse containing twenty- 
five dollars in gold. The purse was of blue, pink, and white, emblem- 
atic of " friendship, love, and purity," and was bestowed as a token 
of the love and esteem of the members of the school. The superin- 
tendent of the infant department, in behalf of her little flock, also 
presented Mr. Bullard with a beautiful fancy parlor chair, as a token of 
their regard. 

"The matter of gifts," The Chronicle says, "is by no 
means a necessary part of a celebration like the above. 
If a couple have been spared by a kind providence to walk 
together in the wedded life twenty-five years, and have 
honored that sacred and endeared relation by a faithful 
observance of all the holy vows of the marriage covenant, 
as sharers of each other's joys, and sympathizers and sup- 
porters in each other's sorrows, what more appropriate 
than to invite their friends, or for their friends if they pre- 
fer, to go uninvited, to celebrate by mutual congratulations 
such an interesting event ? We sincerely pity all our 
bachelor friends who are willfully denying themselves all 
prospect of such joyous occasions." 

Another Silver Wedding. 

In The We 11- Spring for February 25, 1859, was pub- 
lished the following article : — 



2 O 2 INC ID EN TS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

It is not common for such an anniversary — a silver wedding — to 
occur twice in the life of the same person ; and certainly not twice 
within two years. But if spared till Monday, March I, 1859, we sna U- 
have been married just twenty-five years to the Massachusetts Sabbath- 
School Society. That will be our second silver wedding. 

Now, if it were a pleasant season of the year, and we could procure a 
tent large enough, it would give us the greatest pleasure to have another 
silver wedding levee, and invite all of the two hundred thousand differ- 
ent boys and girls, young people and men and women, whom we have 
publicly addressed — and most of them many times — during the past 
quarter of a century, to come and exchange greetings with the " man 
who makes The Well-Spring." 

But as this can not well be done, will all this great number of friends 
who " remain unto this present" (alas ! what a multitude of them are 
fallen asleep !) accept our most heartfelt greetings and good wishes ? 
Many thanks for all the kind interest they have manifested in us and in 
our labors. . . . 

Though our labors for the past quarter of a century have been abun- 
dant, they have been very delightful. Few men have had a more 
delightful work than ours. Think, young friends, of the pleasure we 
have enjoyed in preparing this little paper, through which, every week, 
we have been speaking to more than 150,000 readers — parents, teach- 
ers, and children. You can not be more happy in your most exciting 
amusements than we have been in this work. 

And then all our other duties, of correspondence, making reports, 
preparing books for the Society, etc., during the week, have also been, 
as a general thing, pleasant. And then think, too, of our opportun- 
ities the past twenty-five years, in connection with this Society, and 
for three years previous, in connection with the Maine Sabbath-school 
Union, on the Sabbath and at conferences and Sabbath-school conven- 
tions and festivals, of meeting and addressing these many, many thou- 
sands of parents and children ! What work can be more delightful? 

Golden Wedding. 

Our golden wedding, or the fiftieth anniversary of our 
marriage, came May 16, 1882. As our friends had done so 
much for me in connection with my visit abroad, and fear- 
ing that a special celebration of our jubilee might lead to 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 



203 



further gifts, it was quietly observed among a few of our 
relatives. 

Rev. Daniel D. Tappan wrote to me on the occasion of 
our golden wedding as follows : — 

Weld, Maine, April 27, 1882. 
My Brother Bullard : — 

I see in The Congregationalist a fraternal suggestion in relation to the 
" Golden Mile-stone " on the 16th of May; and on the score of long 
acquaintance send the enclosed lines. We have, as you well know, 
been more or less acquainted a long time ; indeed, perhaps as long as 
you have personally known any of the friends who will greet you on 
that interesting anniversary. I was present, as you may remember, at 
your ordination in Portland in 1832, and took some small part, I think, 
in the service. . . . 

I presume you are both in fair health ; and I opine you will not 
hasten to feel old, and that the same will not soon occur, unless the 
" tabernacle " receive some great wrench. 
Very best wishes for yourself and Mrs. Bullard. 

Your brother, 

Daniel D. Tappan, 
Aged eighty-three years and a half. 

Thou veteran children's friend, thy years 

'Mid tireless cares have sped away ; 
And times of blended joys and tears 

Have ushered in this restful day. 

And this associate at thy side, 

In worthy deeds and love has shone, 
Since when, now fifty years, as bride, 

She linked her fortunes with thine own. 

The glory His, and grateful love 

May well remind of sovereign grace, 
That helped you train, for seats above, 

Such numbers of the rising race. 

And now, not in inglorious ease 

You cease from former robust care ; 
Yet, young in heart, still aim to please 

The Master, and for heaven prepare. 



204 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

But be your exit soon or late, 

Its closing scene may Christ illume ; 
Fit harbinger of bliss so great, 

Reserved for saints beyond the tomb. 

D. D. Tappan. 

The Great Sorrow of my Life. 

About three years after the above interesting anniver- 
sary, my beloved wife was stricken with paralysis. After 
four or five months of almost perfect helplessness, during 
which she was most patient and never more loving and 
lovable, and when we felt that she was slowly but surely 
improving and was to be restored to us in health, on Sab- 
bath morning, July 19, 1885, without the least warning, 
she was suddenly taken from us, as if in a moment trans- 
lated — " a noble woman glorified." We had walked 
together in this most endearing of all earthly relations 
fifty-three years and two months. 

Among the many things for which we had occasion for 
thankfulness during these months of hope and fear, was 
the visit of our son, William R. Bullard, m.d., from 
Helena, Montana. He came sixteen hundred miles, and 
for two weeks our family was again reunited. We had 
not seen him for sixteen years. He has a wife and a pair 
of children thirteen years old, whom we have never seen 
except in their picture. 

Religion has never seemed more precious, as connected 
with the family, than as I contemplate it from my now 
stricken home. I thus moralize upon it : — 

Sin has spread a withering blight over all the relations 
of life. Nowhere has its influence been more destructive 
than in the various relations of the family. And still, the 
united, affectionate family — even where the rains and dews 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 205 

of divine grace have never fallen — is one of the most 
verdant spots in our world. Here one common bond of 
sympathy and love binds all hearts together. The dear 
names of father and mother, sister and brother, are music 
to each other's ears. Each helps bear the other's burdens. 
Envy and selfishness seem to have so far yielded to the 
power of even natural, unsanctified affection, that the hap- 
piness of each is to see the others happy. This is, indeed, 
a comparatively green spot in the midst of a surrounding 
desert. 

But let the rains of heaven be shed down upon this 
spot, and what a change ! A more abundant luxuriance 
now springs forth on every side, and it is clothed with a 
far deeper verdure and a far richer beauty. Religion puri- 
fies and sweetens all the tender and endearing relations of 
such a family. It adds a silken cord to the bonds of sym- 
pathy and love. It diffuses a softening, hallowed influence 
among all its ^members, and makes the good parent, the 
obedient child, the affectionate brother and sister, the 
amiable companion, a better parent, a more obedient, loving 
child, a more affectionate brother or sister, and a more 
amiable companion. Religion produces such a union of 
feeling and sentiment that a discordant note seldom mars 
the harmony of their lives. If one suffer, all suffer alike 
with him, and if one rejoice, all are made happy. 

Religion erects, too, in the pious household, an altar 
around which all the members daily assemble with united 
and joyful hearts. The priest of the household now opens 
the Sacred Volume. The world for a little season is dis- 
missed ; every passion is hushed, every bosom quieted, 
every mind awake, and every thought is fixed. The words 
of eternal life fall upon the ear as if from the lips of the 
Almighty. The song of praise now unites every voice in 



206 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

sweet melody ; then all bow in solemn prayer, and offer 
incense and a pure offering to their Maker. Here, around 
this altar, their union and love are most perfect and 
endearing. 

" Their souls, by love together knit, 
Cemented, mixed in one, 
One hope, one heart, one mind, one voice, 
'T is heaven on earth begun." 

If there is here below an emblem of the household of 
the blest, it surely is the united, affectionate, Christian 
family. What power there is in that religion that can 
make such a scene in such a sin-blighted world as this ! 

And there is efficacy in this religion, could it pervade 
every heart, to convert every family into such a scene ; to 
sweeten all the relations of kindred and friendship, and to 
change earth into heaven. God speed the day when all 
our homes shall be Christian homes. 

Cambridge Reserve Guard. 

Early in the late civil war in our country some of the 
leading citizens in Cambridge were led to organize a mili- 
tary company for the protection of our public institutions, 
buildings, etc. The company consisted mostly of men 
who on account of their age were not liable to be called 
into the service. The late George Livermore, Esq., one 
of the most highly respected men in the city, met me one 
day, mentioned the subject of this company and its special 
object, and inquired if I would be willing to unite with it. 
I at once replied " Certainly." 

The thought that there might by-and-by be a draft, and 
that some might be inclined to resist and excite mobs, and 
the exposure of our arsenal and all our public buildings, as 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 207 

well as our private dwellings and personal safety, seemed 
a good reason for every loyal citizen to be ready to organ- 
ize for protection. 

At first about one hundred united with the company ; 
but when we came to organize regularly and to obtain the 
uniform and other equipments, the number was reduced to 
about sixty. 

After meeting a few weeks under a drill-master, the 
company organized by choice of officers. Very much to 
my surprise I was chosen first lieutenant. I at once 
obtained Casey's volumes of infantry tactics, and in my 
spare moments gave myself to an earnest study. In a 
short time I was elected captain, and for twenty-two 
months did not fail to meet my company every Monday 
evening and drill them for an hour or more. 

This company was composed of clergymen, lawyers, 
physicians, merchants, teachers, presidents and cashiers of 
banks, and of the leading citizens of our part of the city. 
We aided in recruiting one or two companies and in 
awakening a general spirit of loyalty to our government 
and active sympathy with the north. 

There were several events of interest that may be men- 
tioned. The most important is that connected with the 
Cooper Street riot in Boston. Governor Andrew, Adju- 
tant-general Schouler, and Mayor Richardson of our city 
one time called upon our company just at night to escort 
several loads of ammunition from the Cambridge arsenal 
into Boston, for a regiment just home from the war that 
was called upon to aid in protecting the city. Our com- 
pany was under arms fifteen hours and marched ten miles, 
and we received the hearty thanks of the officials who 
called for our service. 

We had a public parade and supper at the end of one 
year, which was an occasion of great interest. 



208 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

The company at another time had a drill in the City 
Hall, at which there was a large gathering of citizens,, 
including our lady friends. At this gathering Mayor 
Raymond, in behalf of the ladies of Cambridgeport, pre- 
sented to the company a superb silk flag. This was prop- 
erly acknowledged by an address from the captain, and 
afterwards suitable resolutions of acknowledgment were 
passed by the company and sent to the ladies. 

At the close of the war the company disbanded. Some, 
months afterwards the mayor of the city requested us to 
re-organize and aid in receiving two Cambridge companies, 
which we had helped to recruit. Permission was obtained 
from the adjutant-general, and the company met a few 
times to prepare themselves for the service ; and never 
was there a company of boys that seemed more happy to 
meet than were the members of the Cambridge Reserve 
Guard. 

Four or five years after this, so many of the company 
had expressed a wish that there could be a reunion, I 
invited the members to an entertainment at my residence. 
About forty were present ; and after they had participated 
in the refreshments provided, they greatly surprised their 
commander by presenting him, in connection with a neat 
and felicitous address by the president of the civil organi- 
zation of the company, with an elegant Waltham watch 
appropriately inscribed. 

Thus ended all public gatherings of our company. Some 
of our most intelligent and worthy citizens have said that 
there has been no organization in our city,, outside of the 
church, that did more to promote kind and neighborly 
feelings among its members than the Cambridge Reserve 
Guard. No persons in the city meet me more cordially 
than the members of this company. Some of them, even 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 



209 



after these years, always address me as "captain," with 
the military salute. 

Cambridge Horticultural Society. 

For several years we had a large and efficient horticul- 
tural society. There were many very excellent pear- 
orchards, especially in Cambridgeport. A large portion 
of the prizes given by the Massachusetts Horticultural 
Society were obtained by the citizens of Cambridge. 

This society, some portions of the year, held monthly- 
exhibitions, which were largely attended. The displays, 
of fruits and flowers and vegetables were extensive and 
very fine. Many small prizes were given. One year a. 
citizen offered prizes to the ladies of the city for the best 
specimens of bread. One hundred and sixty competitors 
exhibited two hundred loaves. The committee of two 
gentlemen and three ladies spent five hours in their exam- 
ination. A loaf, to receive a prize, must be of good color, 
well shaped, of fine appearance, without external defect, 
sweet to the smell and taste, well raised, delicate, tender, 
and handsome. Outwardly and inwardly each loaf must 
not only satisfy but please sight, touch, smell, and taste, 
every sense but hearing, and must be of a specified weight. 
It was to me a matter of no small satisfaction that the 
second prize for " fine flour wheaten bread " was awarded 
to Mrs. Bullard. 

After some years many of the fruit orchards had given 
place to house-lots, and as most of the members were 
connected with the Massachusetts Horticultural Society, 
it was deemed best to disband the Cambridge society ; 
and this was done, to my no small regret, when I was its 
last president. On closing up the institution, a large 
number of the volumes in the library were given to the 



2 I O INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE. 

Massachusetts Horticultural Society, and the rest were 
purchased by the individual members of the Cambridge 
society. We also made a donation of about $500 of the 
balance on hand to the Avon Street Home in our city. 
Thus closed an organization which had been quite popular 
in the city and which had been the means of awakening 
no small interest in beautifying the grounds of many a 
home. 

Sociai Relations in Cambridge. 

My social relations to the people in Cambridge, of all 
religious denominations, have ever been pleasant. I have 
preached in all the evangelical pulpits and addressed the 
Sabbath-schools. Our military organization, spoken of 
elsewhere, helped not a little in promoting social inter- 
course. 

For fifteen or twenty years we have had a book club of 
twenty-one families, of which, most of the time, I have 
been the librarian. For some years we had monthly meet- 
ings at each other's houses, with a simple entertainment. 
This, of course, brought all the members of these families 
together in the most pleasant social intercourse. 

I have often been brought into a more tender connec- 
tion with not a few families in their bereavements. In 
the time of the ministerial vacations, I am often called 
upon in the absence of the pastors to conduct funeral ser- 
vices. One vacation, in twelve days I was called upon 
seven times to perform such services. 

The First Baptist Church, Cambridgeport, lost two 
houses of worship by fire within a few years of each 
other. At' the laying of the corner-stone and at the dedi- 
cation of each, the society very courteously invited me to 
be present. 



INCIDENTS IN HOME LIFE. 2 11 

Church Relations in Cambridge. 

When we took up our residence in Cambridge, about 
forty years ago, Mrs. Bullard and myself moved our church 
relations to the Shepard Church, then under the pastoral 
care of the late Rev. J. A. Albro, d.d. For many years 
Dr. Albro was an active member of the Board of Mana- 
gers of our Sabbath-School Society, and one of my tried 
friends and counselors in my work. 

For several years Mrs. Bullard was an invalid and unable 
to attend church, and I was seldom at home on the Sab- 
bath. Our children were then quite young, and were 
obliged to go to church and Sunday-school alone. 

It was not long before it was found that the connections 
of most of our neighbors were with Cambridgeport rather 
than with Old Cambridge. All the school children were 
also in that ward ; with them were all the associates of our 
own children. They soon found this out, and that they 
were every Sabbath day sent away from all their associ- 
ates on the week-days and in the public schools. This they 
soon took very sorely to heart. They said : " The church 
and the Sabbath-school were especially for them, and not 
for their parents, who seldom were with them." This plea 
we could not long resist. Their application to go to the 
Prospect Street Church and Sabbath-school — then under 
the pastoral care of the late Rev. William A. Stearns, d.d., 
soon after president of Amherst College — seemed to us 
reasonable, and so we removed our church relations to the 
Prospect Street, or the " First Evangelical Church of Cam- 
bridgeport," in November, 1857, where we have since had 
our church home. 

A few years ago our church voted to have six instead of 
four deacons, to hold office three years. They could be 



2 I 2 INCIDENTS IN A BUSY II FE. 

reelected once, but must then be out of office one year 
before they were again eligible. At the first election two 
were chosen for three years, two for two years, and two 
for one year. I was first elected to this office for one year, 
and then reelected for three. As for a few years at that 
time I was relieved from my labors on the Sabbath for the 
Sabbath-School Society, I could perform the duties of the 
diaconate. Although some thought it hardly appropriate 
for one of the clerical profession to accept the office of a 
deacon, it seemed to me proper to accept any position in 
the church where I could be useful ; and while in that 
office there was the most fraternal sympathy and coopera- 
tion among these officers of the church. Our prayer- 
meeting every Saturday evening before the communion 
was to us all a hallowed season. 

I have tried to take my place in all our church work, 
much of the time serving on some of the committees. 



DIED 
APRIL 5, ii 

<Ee&- Stea Btiilartr, 

At " Sunnybank," Cambridgeport, Mass. 
JET. 84 YEARS, 10 DAYS. 



IN MEMORIAM. 

BY M. C. HAZARD. 



We speak and write of ourselves in the present tense, 
and soon others speak and write of us in the past ; we 
tell now what we have done and what we are doing, and 
in a short time others will tell only of what we have 
done ; autobiographies quickly give place to epitaphs. 

Thoughts like these will occur to those who, in reading 
this volume, turn from the pages in which the author 
personally addresses them, to these in which another 
speaks for him. In the preceding pages he is the ani- 
mated, vivacious friend, telling his life-story to a circle 
of friends ; in these his voice is hushed, and he himself 
here lives only in hearts and memories. The change as 
it appears in this volume is not more sudden and startling 
than was the fact it represents. Mr. Bullard passed away 
soon after completing his autobiography. After submit- 
ting it to the writer he never saw it again. On the 
Monday appointed for a conference concerning all the 
items pertaining to its publication, Mr. Bullard failed to 
appear, and the writer heard that he was prostrated with 
pneumonia, the result of a severe cold taken in the 
prosecution of the work to which he had given his whole 
heart and life. A few days more and he had entered 
into rest. 

Concerning his sickness and death there is but little 
to say. There was little that was striking or dramatic 
about the manner of his passing away. After coming 



2 1 6 IN MEMORIAM. 

under the power of the disease which overmastered him, 
he was delirious to the end, and hence there were no 
touching conferences with children and friends, such as 
would have been pleasant to relate and a comfort to them 
to have in memory. Before his illness Mr. Bullard had 
said his last words. His autobiography may be said to 
contain them. That now has somewhat of that sacred 
character which we attach to parting words. 

Monday, March 19, Mr. Bullard returned home from 
one of his appointments with a cold which soon settled 
upon his chest, and which caused him to suffer somewhat 
from rheumatism. The rheumatic pains soon passed 
away, but the soreness in his chest continued. Mr. 
Bullard was not a man to give up readily to sickness. 
He was engaged to present the cause of the Society on 
the next Sunday in New Haven at Dr. Twitchell's church. 
Having disappointed Dr. Twitchell once before, his .heart 
was the more set upon fulfilling his engagement then. 
As the end of the week drew near it was evident to every 
one in the family but himself that he could not go. 
Friday his daughters urged him to write at once reporting 
his condition, but he refused. On Saturday morning his 
son-in-law, Mr. C. F. Wyman, found him sitting up in bed 
eating his breakfast, bright and cheerful, but clearly too 
weak for any such exertion as he contemplated. Asking 
if he could do any thing for him, Mr. Wyman received 
for a reply : " Nothing, unless you can contrive to give me 
a better appetite!" When Mr. Wyman remarked, "Of 
course you have given up all hope of going to New Haven 
to-day," very emphatically Mr. Bullard answered: "Of 
course not ! I feel that I must go. I have thought over 
it, and prayed over it, and it seems clear to me that I 
must go. Besides, I can not bear to disappoint Dr. 
Twitchell a second time." 



IN MEMORIAM. 



217 



Further remonstrances proved unavailing. It was 
suggested to him that he was like a boy who insisted 
upon skating upon ice only an inch thick, and, with the 
old-time twinkle in his eye, he replied : " Oh, ice an inch 
thick will bear quite a weight ! " His son-in-law bade 
him good-by, saying that if he made the attempt to go, 
he should expect never again to see him alive. The 
warning was received with a hearty laugh and a cheerful 
" Good-by ! " 

On rising to dress, however, Mr. Bullard found himself 
weaker than he had supposed. He did dress, though, in 
spite of his weakness, and even went so far as to shave 
himself. But then it was apparent even to himself that 
he could not go. Giving permission to send a telegram 
announcing his inability to fulfill his appointment, he 
turned to the window, and — do you wonder at it ? — tears 
coursed down his cheeks. It was hard for him to sur- 
render his work, perhaps forever. " Now,'' said he, turn- 
ing sadly to his daughter, " I am afraid that I shall give 
up to it." 

It was impossible for him not to give up to it. The 
disease very soon developed into typhoid pneumonia. 
Delirium almost immediately set in. The incoherent 
words which dropped from his lips showed that all the 
while he was engaged in his work. His lips moved with- 
out cessation, and from the broken fragments of speech 
it was easily gathered that he was imagining himself 
preaching a sermon, or speaking to children, or offering 
prayer. It touched the hearts of his daughters to hear 
once from him the petition : " If it be Thy pleasure, 
continue us in our labors." His work — how precious 
it was to him ! Again, they heard a portion of the 
prayer which is the first to be learned and the last to be 
forgotten : — 



2 1 8 IN MEMORIAM 

" Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep. 1 ' 

No devout soul will ever grow too old to say that. The 
last intelligible words were heard from him on the day 
of his departure. In the forenoon he was observed to 
fold his hands in prayer, and distinctly was given the 
supplication : " God bless us all ! " And with that the 
feeble hands fell, and soon this father in Israel fell on 
sleep. It was as if in entering the unseen chariot which 
waited for him he had in that last prayer left a benedic- 
tion behind him. 

The funeral took place on Monday, April 9, at the 
First Church of Cambridgeport, Rev. D. N. Beach 
pastor. As noted in his autobiography, here for over 
thirty years he had had his church home. The services 
were peculiarly fitting both in character and in spirit. 
All those things which make such occasions sorrowful 
and depressing in this case were lacking. There was, on 
the contrary, a solemn and joyous uplift which was very 
noticeable. The simple ceremonies at the house were 
pervaded with the spirit of thanksgiving and praise 
instead of grief and anguish. At the church this frame 
of mind was even more marked. The bell was not tolled, 
for a sound so doleful did not seem appropriate under the 
circumstances. Ringing rather than tolling would have 
been more in consonance with the feelings of those who 
gathered there to do him honor. The flowers which filled 
the platform even to the hiding of the pulpit expressed 
the feelings of all better than the black drapings. The 
profusion of floral offerings was an indication of the 
affection in which Mr. Bullard has been held, and of the 
many hearts which had been touched by the news of his 
death. From his associates in the Congregational Sun- 



IN MEMOKIAM. 



219 



day-School and Publishing Society there was a floral 
book, all the leaves of which, significantly, were turned, 
and on the final leaf, the words : " In Labors Abun- 
dant." Very truly did those words characterize the 
long life just closed. A superb cross of Easter lilies from 
the Congregational Superintendents' Union was a re- 
minder of the Easter message to the Saviour's sorrowing 
disciples: "He is not here; for he is risen." Another 
open book from the Sunday-school of the church had 
upon its pages the appropriate words : " The Lord is 
my Shepherd," and " Feed my Lambs." From the 
church with which he was connected was a cross and 
crown, suggesting the cross now forever laid down and 
the crown in joyful possession. Besides these there 
were many bouquets and smaller designs ; but, after all, 
no offerings were quite so touching as the tiny bunches 
of flowers dropped into the coffin from the hands of little 
children as they passed by. Children had ever been his 
care, and he had ever been held by them in warmest 
esteem. There should have been more children present. 
Had the invitation been widely given, as would have 
been appropriate, they would have filed by the coffin 
in a long procession, eager to take a last look at their 
white-haired friend. They should have been there. 

The church was well filled by those who had known 
and loved Mr. Bullard as a neighbor, associate, and Chris- 
tian worker. The Board of Directors of the Society with 
which he had been so long connected was present ; the 
Congregational Superintendents' Union was represented 
by many of its members ; the officials of many of the 
benevolent societies were among the audience ; Boston and 
Cambridge and the adjoining suburban towns sent goodly 
delegations of clergymen and prominent lay workers. 



220 IN MEMORIAM. 

Of course the church and neighborhood did not miss the 
opportunity to show their love and respect for their 
neighbor and friend. 

The services varied from the usual form observed on 
funeral occasions. Quite happily it was planned that, 
instead of the customary sermon, there should be several 
informal addresses, which should draw their inspiration 
from Mr. Bullard's life, and which should be delivered 
by those who, in a manner, could represent the Society 
which he had served ; the Superintendents' Union, of 
which he had been chaplain ; the pastors of Boston and 
vicinity, among whom he had been a well-beloved brother, 
and the neighborhood in which he had so long dwelt. 
In accordance with this thought, Rev. A. E. Dunning, 
d.d., was asked, as its Secretary, to speak for the Con- 
gregational Sunday-School and Publishing Society ; Mr. 
Charles W. Hill for the Congregational Superintendents' 
Union ; Rev. A. H. Plumb, d.d., for the pastors of 
Boston and vicinity; Rev. Alexander McKenzie, d.d., for 
the friends and neighbors. 

The following selections of Scripture were read by 
Rev. George A. Tewksbury, of the Pilgrim Church of 
Cambridgeport : — 

I. 

So Abijah slept with his fathers, and they buried him in the city of 
David : and Asa his son reigned in his stead. . . . 

And Asa did that which was good and right in the eyes of the Lord 
his God : 

For he . . . commanded Judah to seek the Lord God of their 
fathers, and to do the law and the commandment. — 2 Chron. 14: 
1-4. 

Hear, O Israel : the Lord our God is one Lord : 

And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with 
all thy soul, and with all thy might. 



IN MEMORIAM. 2 21 

And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine 
heart : 

And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt 
talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest 
by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. 

And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall 
be as frontlets between thine eyes. 

And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy 
gates. — Deut. 6: 4-9. 

Gather the people together, men, and women, and children, and thy 
stranger that is within thy gates, that they may hear, and that they 
may learn, and fear the Lord your God, and observe to do all the words 
of this law. — Deut. 31 : 12. 

Train up a child in the way he should go : and when he is old, he will 
not depart from it. — Prov. 22 : 6. 

Children, obey your parents in the Lord : for this is right. 

Honour thy father and mother ; which is the first commandment with 
promise ; 

That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the 
earth. 

And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath : but bring them 
up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. — Eph. 6: 1-4. 

II. 

And Asa . . . built fenced cities in Judah: for the land had rest, 
and he had no war in those years ; because the Lord had given him rest. 

Therefore he said unto Judah, Let us build these cities, and make 
about them walls, and towers, gates and bars, while the land is yet before 
us ; because we have sought the Lord our God, we have sought him, 
and he hath given us rest on every side. So they built and prospered. 

And Asa had an army of men that bare targets and spears, out of 
Judah three hundred thousand ; and out of Benjamin, that bare shields 
and drew bows, two hundred and fourscore thousand : all of these were 
mighty men of valour. 

And there came out against them Zerah the Ethiopian with an host 
of a thousand thousand, and three hundred chariots. . . . 

And Asa cried unto the Lord his God, and said, Lord, it is nothing 
with thee to help, whether with many, or with them that have no power : 
help us, O Lord our God ; for we rest on thee, and in thy name we go 



2 22 IN MEMORIAM. 

against this multitude. O Lord, thou art our God ; let not man pre- 
vail against thee. 

So the Lord smote the Ethiopians before Asa, and before Judah ; and 
the Ethiopians fled. — 2 Chron. 14: 2-12. 

And when Asa heard . . . the prophecy of Oded the prophet, he 
took courage, and put away the abominable idols out of all the land of 
Judah and Benjamin, and out of the cities which he had taken from 
Mount Ephraim, and renewed the altar of the Lord that was before the 
porch of the Lord. 

And he gathered all Judah and Benjamin, and the strangers with 
them out of Ephraim and Manasseh, and out of Simeon : for they fell 
to him out of Israel in abundance, when they saw that the Lord his God 
was with him. — 2 Chron. 15 : 8, 9. 

III. 

He shall feed his flock like a shepherd : he shall gather the lambs 
with his arm, and carry them in his bosom. — Isa. 40 : 11. 

And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst 
of them, 

And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and 
become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of 
heaven. 

Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the 
same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 

And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth 
me. — Matt. 18 : 2-5. 

Then were there brought unto him little children, that he should put 
his hands on them, and pray : and the disciples rebuked them. 

But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come 
unto me : for of such is the kingdom of heaven. 

And he laid his hands on them, and departed thence. — Matt. 19: 

I3-I5- 

So when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of 
Jonas, lovest thou me more than these? He saith unto him, Yea, 
Lord ; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, Faed my 
lambs. — John 21: 15. 

IV. 

Then the children of Judah came unto Joshua in Gilgal : and Caleb 
the son of Jephunneh the Kenezite said unto him, Thou knowest the 



IN MEMORIAM. 



223 



thing that the Lord said unto Moses the man of God concerning me 
and thee in Kadesh-barnea. 

Forty years old was I when Moses the servant of the Lord sent me 
from Kadesh-barnea to espy out the land ; and I brought him word 
again as it was in mine heart. 

Nevertheless my brethren that went up with me made the heart of 
the people melt : but I wholly followed the Lord my God. 

And Moses sware on that day, saying, Surely the land whereon thy 
feet have trodden shall be thine inheritance, and thy children's for ever, 
because thou hast wholly followed the Lord my God. 

And now, behold, the Lord hath kept me alive, as he said, these 
forty and five years, even since the Lord spake this word unto Moses, 
while the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness : and now, lo, 
I am this day fourscore and five years old. 

As yet I am as strong this day as I was in the day that Moses sent 
me : as my strength was then, even so is my strength now, for war, 
both to go out, and to come in. 

Now therefore give me this mountain, whereof the Lord spake in 
that day. — Josh. 14: 6-12. 



And I looked, and, lo, a Lamb stood on the mount Sion, and with 
him an hundred forty and four thousand, having his Father's name 
written in their foreheads. 

And I heard a voice from heaven, as the voice of many waters, and 
as the voice of a great thunder : and I heard the voice of harpers harp- 
ing with their harps : 

And they sung as it were a new song before the throne, and before 
the four living creatures, and the elders : and no man could learn that 
song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were 
redeemed from the earth. 

. . . These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever he 
goeth. These were redeemed from among men, being the firstfruits 
unto God and to the Lamb. 

And in their mouth was found no guile : for they are without fault 
before the throne of God. — Rev. 14: 1-5. 

VI. 

And Asa slept with his fathers, and died in the one and fortieth year 
.of his reign. 



224 IN MEM OR I AM. 

And they buried him in his own sepulchres, which he had made for 
himself in the city of David, and laid him in the bed which was filled 
with sweet odours and divers kinds of spices prepared by the apotheca- 
ries 1 art: and they made a very great burning for him. — 2 Chron. 16: 

13. 14- 

Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn 
cometh in in his season. — Job 5 : 26. 

The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of 
righteousness. — Prov. 16 : 31 . 

And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed 
are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth : Yea, saith the 
Spirit, that they may rest from their labours ; and their works do follow 
them. — Rev. 14: 13. 

VII. 

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen. — Rev. 
22: 21. 

The following extracts from the addresses given, appro- 
priately find place here : — 

From the address of Rev. A. E. Dunning, d.d., repre- 
senting the Congregational Sunday-School and Publishing 
Society : — 

The heathen proverb, "Whom the gods love die young," has been 
Christianized and transfigured by our father and brother. After eighty- 
four years he died young, and during his life had peculiar evidences 
that he was beloved of God. To the last he enjoyed his life. His 
thoughts were as vigorous and his step as elastic as when he was a boy, 
and to the last his trust in God was as simple and serene and happy as 
that of a child. 

Fifty-four years ago last month he was chosen General Agent of the 
Massachusetts Sabbath-School Society. At that time he already was 
an experienced Sabbath-school worker. A few months before that 
Society was organized he was ordained to the ministry of the gospel. 
His public life has more than covered the history of the Society, and, 
excepting for the first two years, he has been identified with it during 
the whole time until now, and much of that time as one of its chief 
executive officers. The Society has changed its name again and again 



IN MEMORIAM. 



2 25 



to accommodate itself to its increasing responsibilities, but his name 
has remained associated with it from the first to the last. 

During his long life the most wonderful advances in history in the 
most wonderful country of the world have taken place, and he has been 
associated with them in their broadest and highest relations. In the 
interest of his Society he traversed the west when railroads had not 
penetrated it, and when the regions beyond were still unexplored and 
unknown. He has seen the silent prairies that he crossed teem with 
busy life, and upon them he has beheld cities spring up peopled by 
generations of men and women whom he has helped to teach, to 
make brave defenders of their country, and to be faithful citizens of 
the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

He has continually associated himself with children. Two themes 
have been on his mind for many, many years : First, The Bible 
and Its Study ; and how naturally do the sentences from the Holy Word,, 
as they have been read, associate themselves with his name and life, 
as a sweet and solemn anthem where words are set to music, filling us 
all with a grateful sense of worship ! And next, Children and their 
Religious Training. He talked with children continually. He founded 
The Well-Spring, and for forty years was its editor, much of the time 
with a regular audience of 60,000 children. He never was installed 
over a local parish, but perhaps there is not a minister living who has 
spoken to so many people at such impressible periods in their lives 
as he. Think of it ! a whole generation has grown up to maturity 
who can remember him in their childhood as the tall man with the 
kindly countenance crowned with snow-white hair. 

His love for his work did not wane with age. Four years ago, when 
he had reached the fiftieth anniversary of his association with this 
Society, its Board of Managers voted to relieve him of further labor, to 
continue his salary, and to ask him to address churches and Sunday- 
schools and other assemblies only as his strength and leisure should 
allow. Yet he would not give up his work. It was to him what play 
is to a boy. He loved it with all his heart. There are thousands and 
thousands of people, all the way from ocean to ocean, who will re- 
member him with pious enthusiasm, love, and esteem, and a multitude 
more in that country to which he has departed, where there is no more 
sea. I think that the boys and girls of three weeks ago listened to 
him as eagerly as did those other boys and girls of half a century 
since, most of whom have vanished from the earth. 

Only a few weeks ago I said to him: "You ought to rest. These 



226 IN MEMORIAM. 

are cold winter days ; wait till spring/' And with a twinkle in his eye 
he told me that every Sunday was engaged away into June. So I 
repeat that he has transfigured the proverb, " Whom the gods love die 
young." After such a rarely long and useful life, closed with a sickness 
so brief that it seemed no more than the summons from the chariot in 
waiting to bear him to his permanent home, may we not look up into 
the skies admiringly and gratefully, and say, as children and brethren 
of him who has been so long amongst us, " We give thee joy, our father 
and our brother ! " 

From the address of Mr. Charles W. Hill, representing 
the Congregational Superintendents' Union : — 

We are drawing near to the end of a very remarkable century, remark- 
able in material and in spiritual things, but for nothing to be remem- 
bered more than for the systematic study of the Bible, which has been 
its crowning glory. In this great work our revered friend, whose name 
we take upon our lips with loving affection, was a pioneer. Born in the 
very dawn of the century, entering upon this great work while it was 
.still young, he has spent the strength of his manhood in it. 

Mr. Bullard was eminently fitted for the work to which he was called. 
There was about him a gentle sprightliness which always attracts chil- 
dren ; there was at his command a wealth of illustration which very 
few have equaled and none surpassed. There was in him a youthful- 
ness of spirit which never grew old ; there was a buoyant hopefulness 
which boys and girls always love to meet. He was loved by more who 
are and have been children than any other man of our times. 

The Superintendents 1 Union, which I have the privilege to-day of 
representing, welcomed him in its very earliest years to an honored 
and honorary place in its membership. His words voiced our thanks 
during all the last years of our gatherings. I do not know how at first 
he came to be called our chaplain, but it fell naturally to him to invoke 
a blessing upon the food of which we were about to partake, and the 
exercise was always an uplifting one ; we were always brought nearer to 
the great Source of all good by his words, which always came from his 
lieart. He was to us, I might say, both father and brother. Rarely is 
it that one combines both relations so completely and fully as did he. 
We looked up to him with veneration for what he had done and for 
what he was ; and he sat down beside us as a brother sits by the side 
of brother. There was no air of superiority about him ; there was 



IN MEMORIAM. 



227 



almost the opposite. It was an inspiration to meet him. It was an 
attraction to the Union to know that Asa Bullard would be at its 
meeting. 

There was nothing about him of the pessimism of old age. He 
looked about with a faithful Christian's hope. We would have detained 
him a little longer if we could, but it would have been for our own 
sakes and to his loss. Each of us, if we might, would have been 
to him what Elisha was to the great prophet. We would have gone 
over Jordan with him, and walked and talked with him until the chariot 
should have descended ; and then we should have been constrained 
to cry out, as did the younger prophet, "My father, my father, the 
chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof! " And we would have 
made of him Elisha's request, that a double portion of his spirit might 
fall upon us. We do humbly wait upon God, beseeching him that the 
mantle of our father may fall upon us, bringing with it that double por- 
tion of his spirit that shall send us forth to our work equipped with 
something of his Christian, hopeful zeal. 

We shall go on no three days' journey, as did the foolish sons of the 
prophets, upon the mountains and through the valleys looking for him. 
He is not here; he is gone up on high. Wide have opened the 
pearly gates to admit this conquering hero. Many and many are the 
children who have welcomed him home. Loud, I believe, have the 
hallelujahs rung through the heavenly arches as he has made his tri- 
umphal way. And yet he has triumphed not in himself, but in Jesus 
Christ his Lord and Master, and at the foot of his throne he has cast 
all of his laurels down. This beloved form which has gone in and out 
before us, imparting an inspiration to higher, nobler, and better things, 
we shall see no more until the sea gives up its dead. But his spirit 
remains, his work goes on, and through this and through all coming 
ages there shall be an accumulation of influences set in motion by him 
which shall bless this and all lands. 

From the address of Rev. A. H. Plumb, d.d., represent- 
ing the pastors of Boston and vicinity : — 

In our father Bullard was illustrated in a remarkable manner the 
beautiful simplicity of a truly religious character. He was a perfect 
child to the last in the utter guilelessness of his spirit. Personal 
ambition, self-seeking, a desire to shine among men, were motives 
unknown to him. He sought to win the hearts of children ; he sought 



2 28 IN MEMO RI AM. 

to win souls to Christ ; he sought to unfold the riches of God's Word. 
In this, doubtless, he was assisted largely by those for whom he labored. 
The children did a great deal for Mr. Bullard. It is a great privilege 
for a Christian worker to be especially associated with the young, for 
it keeps one young. It kept him so. There was great native simpli- 
city in his character, and being with children so much kept him always 
guileless and childlike. Having the children before him continuously, 
Mr. Bullard more and more assimilated to them, and in that period 
of life when many are apt to grow bitter in their feelings and to wear 
a sad countenance, the sunny faces of the children illuminated his own, 
and his spirit responded. 

Then, too, it gives a man directness and efficiency in speech to be 
dealing always with children. For their attention can not be held and 
permanent and effective impressions be made unless these qualities 
reign in speech. Consequently, our brother, as many of us pastors 
had occasion to see of late years, was constantly improving in the 
directness and efficiency of his speech. There are few men who can 
give a better address upon the Bible than he could, and largely because 
his address was marked with these qualities. The children did a good 
deal for him, and he did a great deal for the children. 

What a magnificent thing it is to stand for over half a century, as he 
stood, at the fountains of religious character, turning the streams at the 
fountain head in the right way ! There are multitudes every-where who 
remember and cherish the little things that he has said. Here is 
a letter written years ago by him, a few lines of which I will read. 
It was written on a Christmas morning here at Cambridgeport to 
a family of children : — 

" I remember, my dear boys, with much interest, the perfect manner 
in which you recited the catechism to your mother, at the time of my 
visit a few years ago. I trust you will ever find those important truths 
you so thoroughly stored in your minds in early life a great help and 
blessing to you. Your dear parents have this morning presented you 
with a book far more valuable than that excellent catechism. It is the 
sacred Book, which, through faith in Jesus Christ, made young Timo- 
thy wise unto salvation. It is the best book in the world. You will 
find it the most attractive book you ever possessed." 

Then he gives directions very fully as to reading it, advising them to 
read a portion at a time, quite a large portion, and then he says : " You 
take the history of Joseph and read it, and if you can go through it 
without the tears starting, you will do better than I can." And then 



IN MEMORIAM. 



229 



he exhorts them to make it ** the lamp to their feet and the light of 
their path." Now, for a man to be remembered all over the country by 
thousands of men upon whom in their youth he has thus laid his hand 
is a very great privilege ; it is a very high service. 

His life was successful, also, because it was a very long one. The 
Duke of Wellington's life was called very successful, because he had 
opportunities that fall to few men. God kept this man in such serenity 
of spirit, such equable temper, and such firm religious health that the 
years passed him lightly by, so that wherever he went of late years 
there were strong men rising up and greeting him, and recalling the 
time when he was speaking to them in their youth of Christ and the 
Bible. I am called upon to speak here as one of the older ministers 
in this region, but Mr. Bullard was making public addresses before 
I was born. Think of the privilege of standing for so many years in 
Christ's name ! Think of the host of his spiritual children he has met 
in the world to which he has gone ! 

I must not close without a word as to the manner in which he has 
borne the ministerial character. We have never had to blush for this 
man as a member of our association and as a representative minister 
going through the country. No minister has ever felt any thing but hon- 
ored that he belonged to a profession which this man so illustrated and 
adorned. A man once showed me an infidel paper, in which the his- 
tories of all the wicked things that ministers had ever done, so far as 
they could be obtained, were displayed and detailed. They were raked 
together from all over the country, and I suppose that there may have 
been fifty men who were thus exposed, and perhaps more. But say there 
were ten times fifty, five hundred, or eight hundred, what would that 
amount to? Who can judge of ministers by that? Dr. Dorchester's 
recent book tells us that there are 83,854 evangelical Protestant min- 
isters in the United States. Suppose you show that fifty or a hundred 
of them go astray, what has that to do with ministerial character? 
That is to be determined by the unsullied lives of the great majority. 
The great mass of ministers are noble and good men. And this man 
has worn the ministerial character and name and reputation, and not 
only has kept them unsullied, but has adorned them. As we think 
of the long fellowship we have had together, and of renewing that 
fellowship in the bright world to come, we say, Farewell for a season, 
benignant, blessed, godly man ! 



23O IN MEMORIAM. 

From the address of Rev. Alexander McKenzie, d.d., 
representing neighbors and friends : — 

It seems fitting that a moment should be taken at the close of these 
services in which the neighbors and friends of our father who has 
"fallen upon sleep" should add their word of respect and affection. 
Yet our thoughts are so much quicken and so much better than our 
words, that the longer we wait the more impossible it seems to say any 
thing that shall add to the thought and feelings which are in our hearts. 
I am sure that we who stood very near to him as his fellow-citizens in 
this town appreciate these tributes of respect which are brought to him 
from without, 

His was a remarkably favored life, a remarkably successful life. It 
had in it certain elements that are not altogether common, that are far 
from universal, and which, when you find them together, will always 
make up a life of honor and of usefulness and of happiness. He was ex- 
tremely favored in this, that he was in the right place. Of all the callings 
which it is possible for a man to enter, he had the one to which he was 
precisely fitted. He had, again, this qualification for his office, that 
he could enjoy it because he was fitted for it, and because it was a life 
that brought him continually new life and new thought from the new, 
fresh life which he was touching ; for if it be true that to-day is as 
yesterday, and that which has been is that which is to be, still nothing 
ever becomes old to one who lives with children, and life never becomes 
monotonous to one who walks among the flowers. Every day is a 
new day, as if there never had been a day before it, and this was 
enough to keep his life fresh. Then the wonderful privilege of being 
able to speak to the children, to teach them what had been taught 
him in his childhood, what he had learned in his youth, what he 
had gained for himself in his manhood ; to look into their bright faces ; 
to put the impress of his fatherly hand and to breathe the breath of his 
fatherly wisdom upon their young lives, — this wonderful privilege was 
his. 

God gave him another trait which is rare. I wish it were not so rare ; 
the lack of it makes so many men unhappy in their last years. He had 
the remarkable gift that he could consent to the changes of life. A 
man who can see another take his place has learned the hardest lesson 
of life ; has shown his fitness for his work when he can give it over into 
the hands of others. I do not think that our dear friend always 
approved every thing which is done in these new days. I think that 



IN MEM OR I AM. 23 I 

there was many a sigh for the old Society, which he had known from its 
infancy. I think he always loved that long name, which be pronounced 
as though it were one syllable. I think that he saw with something of 
dismay the turning away from its simple methods into the broader work 
which opened before it. I think that he saw with delight the going 
back to the methods of his youth — the Sunday-school, and the children 
taking the places which they had in some measure yielded to the new 
interests. But he consented to changes. He saw somebody else edit 
The Well-Spring, the hardest trial of his life, I suppose. But he saw 
it, and yet kept his hand and his heart in The Well-Spring still. He 
saw new secretaries take up his work ; he kept his place as Secretary 
still. He saw other men speaking for the Society here and there ; he 
kept speaking for the Society still. You might call him Honorary 
Secretary, or what you would, his salary might be more or less, he was 
still true through all changes to the work of his youth, to the work of 
his life. That marvelously strange lesson which so few of us can learn, 
to grow old gracefully, and to bless the man that takes our place, he 
had learned, and, as we look upon it, it is almost the proudest honor of 
his life. 

While he kept very closely to his work all his life, he had side 
interests which were of concern to him. He was extremely fond of 
flowers. He lived in the garden and forest. He loved the flowers and 
he loved the trees. He followed into nature the great Teacher, who 
was its Creator, and he considered the lily, not alone how beautiful it 
is, but how it speaks to us of its Creator. He saw in it the Saviour's 
care and the Saviour's love, and the perfume that was exhaled from it 
was to him but the breath of the loving providence in which he trusted. 
I never can forget, it comes back to me now, what I heard him say 
once when I was a little boy : " Children," said he, " if you were going 
to make a present of a flower to your father, you would not bring him 
a rose full-blown and perfect, whose leaves would presently drop off, 
but you would bring him a bud. Children, don't think that by-and-by, 
when you are men, you will give your hearts to God, but give them in 
the bud, and let them open before him." That was one way in which 
he used the flowers, making his garden a parable from which he could 
teach those divine lessons of love, which considers the lily and the 
child who loves the lily. 

There is one thing more which comes to me as characterizing him, 
and that is the marvelous enjoyment he had of every thing. He had 
open eyes, seeing every thing, hearing every thing. I scarcely ever met 



232 IN MEMORIAM. 

him, when he did not tell me something he had seen the day before, or 
heard the last Sunday. When he went away it was to bring home 
something. It was a wonderful trip he made to Europe a few years 
ago, wonderful in its beginning through the shipwreck, and then in the 
great convention he attended in England. Then the strange things he 
saw, the interesting sights and great men he looked upon ; how over 
and over again he told us about things that you and I, perhaps, might 
never have seen. He seemed to have walked the world with his eyes 
open to every thing, gathering up and remembering, with that genius for 
seeing things that ought to be seen, and with that greater genius for 
remembering what ought to be told. 

When I think of him, as I have for these few last days, I have not 
been able to think of him as gone. As he comes to my mind and I 
try to think of him as beyond the stars somewhere, it always comes to 
me in this way : I suppose we think of different people in heaven in 
different relations, and think of them in different occupations. It 
seems to me that Asa Bullard in heaven is seeing a great many new 
things. Think how eager he is ! He has seen the amethyst and 
chrysoprase and sardonyx that are in the jeweled walls. He has seen 
the golden streets ; he knows how wide they are. He has heard the 
harpers; he has listened to the angels. If it be possible, he has seen 
Saint Paul ; he has seen Saint John ; he has looked up into that radiant 
face which comes to us as the highest revelation of all imagined glory, 
for we shall be like Him when we see him, because we shall see him as 
he is. I like to think of this. My dear friend, I love to think how 
you are enjoying heaven ! 

I wish that he could come back some Sunday afternoon and say : 
" Children, I want to tell you how those walls look ; I want to tell you 
about the harps ; and I want to tell you about the dear Lord ! " I do 
not know what change has come to him. He was the first man who 
told me that when we die we do not become angels. I was brought 
up to believe that every body who was good became an angel. He 
said : " No, children, no, we do not become angels ; we are nothing but 
men and women after we are gone.' 1 I think of him as being a man 
still; I do not know what changes may come, but I hope they will 
not change Asa Bullard very much. I want to see that tall form and 
that kindly face. I think, if it were left to me, I should not change it 
at all ; a little of the weariness might be taken off, perhaps, yet it was 
that weariness that gave the glory to his spirit and life. I hope his 
hair will be white there. I want to see the twinkle of his eyes. It 



IN MEMORIAM. 



233 



seems to me that when I see him, — I picture myself going towards 
him, and he is waiting while I am talking with Saint Paul for a 
moment, waiting quietly, and as soon as I turn he says : « ; Come with 
me, and I will show you the Bride, the Lamb's wife." Then he will 
show me the pure river of water of life proceeding out of the throne 
of God, and the glory which is forever in that city, where they never 
shut the gates, where the sun never goes down, where there is no night, 
and where there is no sorrow forever and forever. O my dear friend, 
how you are enjoying heaven ! God bless you in that glory ! Thou 
art worthy ; thou art worthy of the light of eternal day, for thou wast a 
disciple of Him who said, " Because I live, ye shall live also." 

The services were closed with a touching prayer by the 
pastor, and then the remains were taken to Mount Auburn 
for interment. 



To those who know the facts concerning Mr. Bullard 
and his life-work, it is manifest that he has very inade- 
quately represented them in his autobiography. He has 
not written down that which was the most valuable and 
for which he is the most honored. It is doubtful whether 
he himself sufficiently realized what they were so that he 
could have done so. It is difficult for any one to look at 
himself and his acts in such a way as to get things in 
right perspectives. But even if he rightly estimated his 
relations to the work in which he was engaged, his deep 
humility of character would have prevented him from put- 
ting that estimate before others. Whenever he approached 
any thing like a summary of what he had accomplished, 
his pen sensitively was guided away from characterizing 
it in any* way. The reports of some men are larger than 
their deeds, but he was one who did more than he ever 
told. He has left it to others to say what value shall be 
placed upon his work. 

Already others are appraising his labors at their true 



234 



IN MEMORIAM. 



worth, and are rating them far higher than his own 
modesty ever would have dreamed of placing them, While 
he still was wavering between life and death, the Boston 
Congregational Superintendents' Union passed the follow- 
ing minute : — 

" Voted, That an effort be made throughout the country to raise 
a Trust Fund of One Hundred Thousand Dollars, to be known as the 
Asa Bullard Memorial Fund, the income of which shall be used in 
the missionary work of the Congregational Sunday-School and Publish- 
ing Society." 

It was thought that the communication to him of this 
proposed effort would help Mr. Bullard to get well, or at 
least to cheer his last hours. But he was beyond the 
reception of any messages, no matter how full of affection 
they might be. He died without knowing what was 
intended by the Union. 

A committee of seven was appointed to carry out the 
purpose expressed in the resolution. Of that committee 
Mr. C. W. Carter is chairman, Mr. F. P. Shumway, Jr., is 
secretary, and Mr. W. H. Emerson, 40 Central Street, 
Boston, is treasurer. 

It is not the design of the Union that the raising of 
this fund shall in any way interfere with the contributions 
now coming into the Society, upon which it is depending 
for the means necessary to carry on its missionary work. 
Its members, indeed, earnestly deprecate any diversion of 
those contributions to this object, for that would for the 
present, at least, cripple the Society which they, in honor- 
ing its departed servant, seek to help. They seek to make 
the subscriptions to the fund individual rather than 
to have them given collectively by Sunday-schools and 
churches. 

The committee is already vigorously at work. Circulars 



IN MEM0R1AM. 



235 



have been issued, and certificates of subscription have 
been prepared. An engraved receipt is to be given to 
every one contributing the sum of twenty-five cents, while 
a card certificate bearing the autograph and an excellent 
likeness of Mr. Bullard engraved from a recent photo- 
graph will be sent to all of those who contribute one dollar 
or more. It is expected that some will contribute as high 
as a thousand dollars or even more. There will be many 
whose warm affection will not allow themselves to be 
limited to a small amount. Before the arrangements are 
complete, the responses are beginning to come in. The 
prospects for success seem hopeful. At a memorial meet- 
ing of the Boston Superintendents' Union, eighteen hun- 
dred dollars was subscribed by the members present toward 
the fund. The children of fifty years ago, the children of 
twenty-five years since, and the children of to-day will 
raise the memorial. 

And such a memorial will better fit the saint for whom 
it is intended than a stately monument in Mount Auburn. 
His work meant every thing to him, and by this memorial 
the work will go on. It will be as if the folded hands 
should again resume their labors, and his presence for 
ages be felt in the homes that are yet to be. By this, he, 
being dead, will yet speak, and speak most effectively, to 
the oncoming generations of children. In this way shall 
his last prayer be most fully answered : " God bless us 
all ! " 



